Call it Love
by Montana-Rosalie
Summary: As children, Emma and Killian were friends. Now they are all grown up, and everything has changed.
1. Prologue

**Another hiatus is upon us, so I decided it was high time for another story. This one is a Regency Era AU, filled with lots of love, angst, intrigue and eventually fluff, and I hope you are going to enjoy it. Since I am still writing it, next chapter will be up tomorrow, and after that they will come every three days.**

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><p>Lady Emma Audrey Nolan does her best to contain her excitement as her father, the Earl of Misthaven, lifts her from the carriage and sets her down on her feet next to her mother.<p>

It is a bright summer day and Emma is wearing a pretty blue dress that flares from the hips and that is going to be a nuisance later on because Liam is probably going to insist that they all climb trees, but perhaps Killian is going to stay with her on the ground, or even teach her how to throw rocks into the lake so that they bounce off the surface of it eight times like his does.

"Lord Misthaven! Welcome!" Killian's and Liam's father, the Duke of Storybrooke comes rushing down the front steps and Emma follows her mother's lead, bowing into a curtsy and trying not to bounce back up in anticipation of the fun ahead. "My Lady, it is so nice to see you again."

"Likewise, your Grace", mama says and the Duke winks at Emma, then shows them all into his grand house, inside which Emma always feels like she should talk in whispers.

Killian and Liam never do so, and always after half an hour of quiet playing in the nursery wing they end up sliding down hallways in their socks and laughing out loud until the governess comes to shush them and ushers them outside.

"You will have to excuse my wife today. She is not feeling well", the Duke is telling papa while mama lays her hand on Emma's shoulder to keep her from breaking into a run like she wants to do; it has been a week since she had seen Liam and Killian and she is starved for their company.

Emma's governess is so incredibly dull and she does not let her do anything fun.

Ever.

Papa says it is good for building character, but Emma heartily disagrees.

"Miss Robson, there you are. Please take Lady Emma to the nursery wing", the Duke says when the governess appears and Emma beams at her, takes her outstretched hand and waves at her parents.

"Be good", mama says and Emma nods, then hops along the hallway with Miss Robson, wishing that the pretty young woman could be her governess instead of old, stuffy Miss Tucker.

"Swan, there you are at last!" Killian exclaims as soon as Emma enters the playroom and Liam clears his throat pompously, making both Emma and Killian giggle.

She quite likes that nobody but Killian calls her Swan and thinks again how she should devise a nickname for him too; once she tried calling him Killy and he was so offended he did not talk to her for almost an hour.

"Nice to see you again, Lady Emma", Liam intones, then breaks into a grin too, bowing over her right hand while Killian does so over her left.

All three of them find it infinitely amusing to pretend they are adult, but they can never quite keep a straight face while doing so.

"Oh stop it you two, and let us just play!" Emma giggles and wipes the back of her right hand against her dress, but does not do the same with the left.

A blush creeps into her cheeks and she distracts the boys with a new game; they are both wounded soldiers and Emma is their nurse, wrapping bandages made from the dishrags stolen from the kitchen around Killian's arm and Liam's head.

Liam is a terrible patient, complaining all the time how he is dreadfully cold and how he wants water and how much pain is he in, while Killian just grits his teeth and lets her hold his hand.

Once they grow tired of that game, the governess lets them out and they run to the lake and Emma picks flowers as she goes, thinking how nothing is ever going to be as wonderful as this summer has been and hoping that it never ends.

She does not want to go back to the City where her only playmate is going to be cousin Jefferson who makes her play his stupid games, and when she suggests something different he tells her that a proper lady always has to bend to the will of her betters.

He might be eleven and she is only six, but that does not make her lesser than him; Emma's mama always says that all people are the same inside, no matter their age or social status.

Maybe things will change once she tells him about her summer and how Liam and Killian had never forced their games on her just because she is younger.

"Swan, look!" Killian calls and she lifts her head to find him standing at the edge of the lake, poised to throw a rock along its surface.

She can see Liam rolling his eyes even from where she stands, but she ignores him and smiles encouragingly at Killian, coming closer to see better.

The rock skips eleven times before it sinks and Liam looks horrified because his younger brother has just broken his record of ten.

"Did you see that?!" Killian exclaims and jumps in place until Emma grabs him by the shoulders and presses a sloppy kiss that catches the corner of his lips instead of just his cheek, and her stomach feels funny when she pulls back and finds him looking at her with eyes as blue as the depths of the lake.

"I am sorry", she says in a squeaky voice, drops all the flowers at his feet and runs back toward the house, feeling mortified and thinking that she will most definitely be punished if somebody tells her parents what she had done.

Everybody knows you are not allowed to kiss boys until you are married, and although she is uncertain what the punishment for doing so before it is allowed is, she does not doubt that it is something most unpleasant.

Emma runs faster and bites her lip because if she knows one thing, it is that ladies do not cry in public.

That is why the black funeral veils were invented.

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><p>Lord Killian Andrew Jones wants to go back in time more than he wants anything else. He wants to return to a Friday in the week previous during which the Lord and Lady Misthaven had visited with their daughter, known to the world as Lady Emma, but addressed by him as simply Swan.<p>

On that particular Friday nothing much had happened until the moment his Swan had given him his first kiss, as a type or reward for skipping stones more times than his brother, and although that was a memorable occasion in itself, it was also the last time he was truly happy.

Swan ran away before he could offer her marriage and the next day his mother had died.

He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears are still burning in his throat, his father's hand heavy on his shoulder.

Liam, of course, does not look like he might cry, but he is twelve years old and so he must be stronger than Killian just for the simple fact that he is two years his senior.

There are not a lot of people attending the funeral because their estate is too far in the country, and Killian thinks it is not fair that none of mama's best friends are here, except for Lady Misthaven, who is leaning heavily on her husband.

Killian wishes Emma was here, because he is pretty sure he could be strong for her.

His stomach feels tight when he remembers what father had said before the funeral; they are not to stay here beyond today, and it means he might never see his best friend again.

The trunks are already packed and the future seems too bleak to endure, and Killian blinks furiously, avoiding everybody's eyes.

What do they know anyway? He has spent the whole of yesterday asking why mama had died, and nobody could tell him.

After the service ends and everybody returns home for refreshments, Killian and Liam are banished to the nursery where Miss Robson hugs Killian close like his mama used to do and tells him that everything will be alright.

He knows she is lying because she also tells him that he will not need her anymore now that he too is about to attend a prestige private school that Liam had started last year, so Killian extricates himself from her embrace and refuses to even look at her for the rest of the afternoon.

The next morning Liam gives Killian two of his better marbles and then their father appears in the nursery and tells them that it is time to say goodbye to the staff and leave.

He does not think it necessary to inform them exactly where are they going, but it is fairly clear that he does not intend to return to a place where his wife had drawn her last breath.

Killian would feel the same if there was not for Emma, and his stomach twists again because the person he wants to say goodbye to the most is not here.

And so he refuses to utter the word to anybody, swallowing the lump in his throat when Miss Robson brushes his hair away from his forehead and remains as silent as he.

Father looks so old all of a sudden, and he lets Killian's rudeness slide, ushering his sons outside and into a waiting coach before he mounts his horse and the sordid procession moves up the driveway.

Killian refused to look back, staring at his lap and tasting tears on his lips as they move by the neighbour estate.

He had lost his mother, his best friend and his governess in less than a week and he will bloody well cry if he feels like it.

Liam puts his arm around Killian's shoulders and softly repeats what Miss Robson had said.

"Everything is going to be alright, little brother."

He is lying and they both know it.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	2. One

**I am completely blown away with your response for the Prologue and even more excited to share this story with you; it is going to be a little bit different from the rest of my stories because all the chapters are going to feature both Emma's and Killian's POV, and I hope you are going to enjoy it! Next chapter will be up on Wednesday, like an early Christmas present from me to you.  
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><p><em>Seventeen years later<em>

The anticipation for the dowager Duchess of Tulgey's ball has been steadily rising for the past few weeks and Emma can hardly believe that the time has finally came for her to attend it. She had never been one to get ridiculously excited about a ball, finding much more satisfaction in discussing politics with her father or going to visit the poor and unfortunate with her mother, but Lord Neal is going to be there, and if she is not quite mistaken, he might at long last offer for her.

It has been almost a year since she had first seen him, and fate would have it that it was also at the dowager Duchess of Tulgey's ball; it was Christmas and Emma cannot recall any night that was more magical than that one. She had always been popular with the men but none of her acquaintances had ever made her feel anything beyond friendship until Lord Neal practically bowled off her feet while dancing with one of her friends. He had, of course, apologized profusely and she had graciously let him write his name into her card for the next dance, which they danced quite vigorously.

A few balls later they had taken a turn around the garden and shared an embrace in its darkest corners, and since then they had done the same whenever an opportunity presented itself, until that night last week when they had gone further than an embrace.

Much further.

Emma blushes at the memory and smiles to herself as her father hands her down from the carriage in front of Tulgey Hall, a sprawling mansion at the outskirts of London.

Tonight has to be the night when everything changes, and Emma feels as jittery and excited as she used to be when she was a child of six about to go playing with her neighbours. Her thoughts run away from her and she is suddenly assaulted by the memory of one stolen kiss and a summer that ended with her in tears because her parents did not want to take her to the Duchess of Storybrooke's funeral, and she suddenly feels chilled despite the mellow spring air.

She had not thought of Killian in years, and she wonders why she is doing so now until she remembers that she had used to think that they would end up marrying some day, that she would meet him at one of the balls and that they would fall madly in love, but that had never happened.

He had joined the Navy a year before the Peninsular War started, which was before Emma was introduced to society, and since then he had not made a single appearance in London.

They say he is a hero, and one of the youngest Captains in the history of the Empire, but Emma prefers not to think about where he is and what he is doing because she had seen the consequences of that war from up close and she does not even want to entertain the thought of her childhood friend being another victim of it.

The ballroom in Tulgey Hall is enormous, and it seems that all of ton has gathered in it tonight, Emma's gloomy thoughts scattering at the sight of all the glittering chandeliers and brightly-coloured dresses.

The orchestra is already tuned in and barely moments after Emma and her parents take their refreshments the music starts playing, but since Emma's dance card is empty for the first dance she sits down next to Lady Ruby and Marchioness of Arendelle while her father leads her mother into the opening waltz.

"Is he here?" Ruby whispers against Emma's ear and she shrugs, doing her best to stop craning her head in search of him.

"He will be here, do not worry", Elsa says and squeezes Emma's hands, then elbows her when she is reluctant to allow cousin Jefferson to write his name in her dance card.

"You cannot dance just with Lord Neal, Emma", Ruby says sternly once cousin Jefferson moves away and Emma does her best not to shudder.

"He makes me uncomfortable", Emma says petulantly and smiles at another gentleman, inclining her head when he bows and inquires about her dance card.

"He is most awkward, is he not?" Elsa giggles and Ruby joins her as they watch Jefferson twirl some unfortunate girl around the dance floor.

Emma looks at Neal's name on her dance card next to the waltz and practically trembles with anticipation because she had never waltzed before and he had promised her it would become her favourite dance as soon as she tried it.

"Oh, there is Lord Neal", Ruby exclaims when the crowd parts and Emma finally sees Neal, leading Lady Regina into a country dance while the Dowager Countess titters from her seat at the highest point of the ballroom.

A feeling of premonition takes over Emma fast, freezing her blood and making her avert her eyes because Neal is smiling at Regina the way he smiled at Emma just a week ago, the buzz of the ballroom suddenly becoming too much.

Things go from bad to worse when the dance ends and Neal's father, the Marquess of Gulch steps up on the podium to announce the betrothal of his son and Lady Regina Mills, and the ballroom spins around Emma, her cheeks burning because it seems that everybody is staring at her instead of the happy couple, women whispering behind their fans and men throwing her pitying looks.

Luckily, Emma's card is empty for the next dance too so she excuses herself, waving away Ruby's attempt to go with her when she rushes out into the garden.

The room had felt small but the garden is not much better, Emma's chest feeling too tight because she had just been thoroughly and properly ruined.

She tries to breathe deeply, and nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand rests on her shoulder because she knows who it belongs to.

"I do not want to talk about it", Emma says without turning around and walks away, but Neal is nothing if not persistent.

"Emma, just let me explain!"

"I do not thing it is proper for you to address me so liberally anymore, my Lord. After all, you are betrothed now", Emma says, attempting to sound unaffected even though she is fairly certain her heart is shattering.

"Emma, come on. You did not really think my father would let me marry below my station", Neal says and Emma blinks furiously, every word tearing the chipped fragments of her heart into even smaller bits.

"Below your station", Emma repeats softly, and even though she had never fainted in her life, she thinks she might do so tonight. "You told me you loved me."

"He threatened to disinherit me!" Neal says as if that explains everything, and Emma guesses that it does in the end.

"You do not have to say anything more, Lord Neal", Emma whispers, her throat closing up and her hands balling into fists as she tries to contain her emotions.

"I am sorry, Emma. I never meant to hurt you", he says and she whirls around, planting him a facer square in the jaw, only now noticing how very weak that jaw really is.

"I do wish you best of luck", Emma spits out while he looks at her with wide horrified eyes, then walks around him and returns to the ballroom with her head held high.

She might be broken, but she will not give anybody the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Even if her chances of dancing the waltz are ruined.

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><p>Killian exits the coach and pauses in front of the Duke of Storybrooke's town house, leaves his valet to take care of the horses and swallows hard while ascending the stairs as fast as his bad leg allows him, fervently hoping that his brother is not from home.<p>

He just wants to sleep for a week and forget about the war and everything he had seen and been forced to endure in the past six months.

The door opens to reveal Leroy, his brother's butler, and the man's eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he takes Killian in.

"Your Grace. You are back", Leroy says and bows, waving Killian in without further comment.

Killian is not sure if he prefers his approach of pretending there is not a hook at the end of his left arm as opposed to all the gawking people usually do.

And then the way Leroy had addressed him sinks in and Killian freezes just inside the doorway, then slowly turns around to face the butler.

"What did you just say?"

"You did not get the message", Leroy says, always quick to notice the smallest of details, and Killian suspects that he had just gone as pale as a fresh sail.

"Where is my brother?" Killian asks quietly even though he is fairly certain he already knows the answer to that question.

"He was killed, your Grace. His solicitors sent word right away, but with the war...", Leroy trails off and motions toward the closed door of the library. "Would you like some refreshments?"

"I would like to hear what happened to Liam", Killian says sharply but moves onward nonetheless because he thinks it would be best if he sat down before he falls over.

Pain flares in his stump underneath the brace holding his hook in place, but it is not even a shadow of the pain he feels in his heart.

Leroy rings for a tea tray as Killian settles into an armchair by the fire, avoiding the one Liam often sat in and trying to keep his composure as best as he can.

"His Grace was killed in a coach accident three months ago", the butler says as soon as the maid delivers a tray with tea and cakes and leaves it on a table next to Killian's elbow.

The world narrows to a dark tunnel and Killian is only distantly aware of Leroy pouring him tea and dosing it with brandy before he holds out the cup that Killian does not take because his fingers are shaking too much.

Three months ago he had been lying on a dirty cot in Italy, weak and drifting on the edge of consciousness except for the times they had changed his bandages.

"What happened?" Killian manages to ask and balls his hand in a fist, idly wondering if the blows are ever going to stop coming, if he is ever going to know a moment of peace.

He had given up on happiness a long time ago.

"His Grace was walking along a street not far from here. A horse got spooked and his Grace was run over", Leroy says and dark spots start dancing in Killian's vision, his ears filling with the sounds of cannons, of screaming soldiers and wood splintering until he cannot shake it off, and his voice joins the imaginary ones in his head.

The whole episode lasts barely a few seconds before somebody slaps him hard and he blinks his eyes, his blurry vision focusing on Leroy's lined face.

"Forgive me, your Grace", the man says but Killian is too stunned to speak.

Usually he has to find his way out of the nightmare on his own, and he suspects it is because nobody else had ever dared slapping him before.

"Shall I gather my things and leave, your Grace?" Leroy asks him calmly as if the prospect of getting sacked for attacking your employer is no more worrisome than a hailstorm when you are safe inside a warm house.

"You will do no such thing", Killian says, his voice rough, but his hand does not shake as badly as before when he reaches for his tea cup.

"Naturally, your Grace", Leroy says while Killian takes a few careful sips of his tea, his mind going a mile a minute.

His brother is gone.

He is the new Duke of Storybrooke.

His hand is gone.

He is a Captain without a ship.

Either one of those things would be hard to digest on their own, but all of them at once are simply unbearable.

"Bring me the brandy bottle, Leroy", Killian says and rests his head against the high back of the armchair he is sitting in, regretting the fact that there is no rum to be had.

"Right away, your Grace", Leroy says and retreats quietly to fetch the bottle, optimistically bringing a crystal glass too.

As soon as the stopper is off the bottle Killian snatches it and takes a long, hearty gulp of the rich, burning liquid, then another and another and another until he is pleasantly numb and he knows precisely what he is going to do.

The ton has probably been expecting him to return and take his brother's seat in the House of Lords but Killian knows he is as unfit for that duty as he is for commandeering a ship again, so remaining in London is quite out of the question.

"Pack our trunks. We are going to Storybrooke Manor", he says and Leroy bows out, leaving him alone in the library thinking about his childhood and the place he had last experienced happiness in.

For the majority of his life Killian had been running into danger head first, but now that he cannot run anymore he is going to limp back home in hope that the world will forget him and finally stop causing him so much grief.

After all, he does not have much more left to lose.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	3. Two

**You guys are really the best audiance a girl could wish for; thank you for all the reviews and messages, because I adore reading about your feels and theories for this fic. Happy Christmas, and see you on Saturday for the new chapter!  
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><p>It has been a week since the ball and the ton's gossiping tongues are sharper than ever. Emma has taken to hiding in her bedroom, faking a headache every time her parents entertain guests in the drawing room, lying on her bed or sitting by the window and wondering how everything fell apart so quickly.<p>

She tries not to think about Lord Neal because every time she does, tears well in her eyes and she cannot help wishing for him to come to tell her it was all a great misunderstanding.

When her father announces that they will be going to their country estate as soon as their trunks are packed, Emma does not feel anything but relief to be able to escape even though her parents tell her that she should not be embarrassed since it was Lord Neal who committed such a terrible faux pas.

They would not be saying that if they know how far she had gone with him and how careless she had been on the night she did, and that the only blessing of this awful situation is that she is not with child.

Looking at their dalliance through a prism of pain, Emma slowly realizes that she had only fancied herself in love with him when in reality she had been in love with the feeling, with the excitement of having somebody she had thought loved her back. Now, after what he had done to her, she is just mad and although a lady should not hate anything, she thinks she might be feeling a little bit of hate toward Lord Neal after all.

She is most glad she had punched him in the face even if that only added to the gossip mill.

It does not mean she stops longing for his arms to close around her again.

The next few days are spent in anticipation of their departure with very few guests arriving. Lady Ruby and the Marchioness of Arendelle had been coming to see her almost daily and they were the only ones she received because they did not judge her actions, both making fun of Lord Neal until she had managed to crack a smile too.

"It is understandable that your father wants to remove you to the country, Emma, and I do think I will be able to convince Will to take me there too before the Season ends so I can keep you company", Elsa tells her and squeezes her hand, her kind eyes making Emma's suspiciously misty.

She does not know what she did to deserve such a friend, but she is infinitely glad that she did.

"I would do the same if Victor would let me travel; we fight every time I have to step away from home for longer than an hour", Ruby says with a wistful smile, her hand resting on her small baby bump.

"You are in a delicate way, Ruby. You cannot blame your husband for being worried about you", Elsa says with a wink at Emma because they know that Ruby only pretends not to relish the attention.

"It does not mean I have suddenly turned into a glass figurine", Ruby says and Emma finds herself being just a little envious of her friends even if she would rather be alone than married to somebody as two-faced as Lord Neal.

It seems that her friends have married the last two true gentlemen and Emma is forced to accept that true love is just not in the cards for her.

Oh why Neal could not have been the knight in shining armour he had seemed like at the beginning?

"Did either of you hear about the Duke of Storybrooke finally returning from the War?" Elsa asks after they have all taken a sip of their teas and Emma almost drops her cup.

"Killian is back in England?!"

"Oh yes, you used to play with the Jones brothers when you were children; I had forgotten about that", Elsa says and then her lips turn down at the corners. "I am afraid that he is different than what you must remember."

"What do you mean?" Emma asks, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she thinks of the day she had found out that Liam had died in a most unfortunate coach accident, and how she cried because Killian had lost his last living relative and he was not even there to attend the funeral.

Her parents had made her stay at home for Killian's mother's funeral, but they had less success in persuading her to miss Liam's.

"People say he had been hurt badly in the War, and it is the reason it took him so long to come back and take his rightful place as the new Duke of Storybrooke. Apparently there was a sea battle and his ship had sunk into the Adriatic Sea, and nobody knows how he had survived", Elsa tells them and Emma's face goes progressively paler with each word she hears.

"Can we not talk about such glum things?" Ruby asks sharply and widens her eyes at Elsa. "I am sure he is quite alright now that he is home."

It is clear that she is trying to steer the conversation form a topic that is quite painful for Emma and Elsa graciously lets her, chattering about other ton gossip while Emma ponders her words and realizes that she had not entertained a single thought about Lord Neal since Killian was mentioned.

She wishes she could see her childhood friend again to make sure that he really is fully restored to health, and, most importantly, to offer him condolences for the death of his bother.

Once upon a time she had loved Liam like a brother too, and even though so many years have passed since she had last seen either of them, her grief was still formidable when she stood next to his grave and remembered how kind he had always been to her and how much fun all three of them had.

"We should take our leave, Elsa", Ruby announces after a few more minutes and waves away Emma's apologies for being poor company.

"Hush, now", Elsa says with a bright smile. "You are our friend and we love you even if you are a little prickly at times."

"I expect you are going to feel much better after just a week in the country", Ruby tells her and Emma nods, hoping that her friend is right.

A little voice in the back of her head wonders if maybe she should persuade her parents to stay in London, but not even the hope of running into Killian by chance is strong enough to cancel out all the humiliation every outing has brought her in the past week.

She needs to remove herself from the City until the ton finds another victim and the fiasco with Lord Neal is not the focal point of all the gossips.

Killian is still going to be here in a few months because returning to War is out of a question; he will be looking for a wife in order to produce an heir now that he is the Duke.

Even if she had not sworn off men completely, Emma has been so thoroughly ruined that someone of Killian's station would not spare her even a glance, so it is just as well her parents are taking her away from the City.

Tears threaten, but Emma bites her lip and somehow keeps them from falling.

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><p>Killian sits in a coach across from Kristoff Bjorgman, his self-appointed valet and probably the only friend he has got left in the world and stares out at the passing scenery, barely paying attention to what Kristoff is saying.<p>

"Are you sure you can just slink away like that and ignore your Parliament duties?" Kristoff asks and that definitely penetrates through Killian's hangover.

"Liam's seat in the Parliament has been empty since the Season started and I do not see our great Empire falling apart", Killian says and clenches his jaw, but he is unable to be cross with Kristoff for more than a few moments at a time.

The story of their friendship is alike most stories about friendships that start in war times; Killian had been Kristoff's commanding officer, first a Lieutenant, then a Captain, and their interactions have always been strictly official, until the day their ship had sink into the sea and Kristoff had spent hours holding onto a floating plank and holding Killian up so he would not drown in his unconscious state. They were rescued together and put into the same tiny room in a make-shift hospital in an abandoned nunnery in Italy, and somehow, Kristoff had become a friend.

Even if Killian had been cursing Kristoff at first for saving his sordid life instead of letting him drown and keeping him up during nights when the pain had been too much.

Kristoff was restored to full health within two weeks, but he absolutely refused to leave Killian's side as his Captain kept knocking on death's door, and eventually Killian forgave him for keeping him alive.

It would all end there if Killian had been fit to travel, but that was not the case and Kristoff just hired himself into his service, helping him dress when he was still figuring out how to do it one-handed without taking hours and even coming up with the hook that has been Killian's constant tool from the first time he had tried it on.

"You are scowling more heavily than usual", Kristoff observes casually and Killian makes an effort to school his expression, his right hand balling into a fist because his left is aching despite the fact that it is not there anymore.

"My brother has been dead for half a year, Kristoff and I was not even aware of it until two days ago", Killian says and glances briefly at his companion. "Do you even realize what his death means for my future?"

"You have inherited everything?"

"Precisely."

"I fail to see how that is a bad thing."

"I have inherited estates and money, but I have also inherited my brother's tenants. They will depend on me to take care of them and I do not know the first thing about my duties. My father always took Liam with him when he went visiting his tenants because he was the heir, and I was just the second son meant for military service."

"You have sold out and put the military life behind you, so you are just going to learn how to be a Duke", Kristoff tells him with a grin, looking proud of himself as if he had just solved all Killian's problems.

"It is not that simple."

"It is not as complicated as you have made it to be in your head either", Kristoff says and Killian allows his lips to quirk up at the corners.

Silence descends on the coach and Killian even dozes for a short while before the aching in his missing hand is replaced by a dull ache in his knee and the horses need to be changed.

They stop at a roadside inn and have lunch in a private dining room where Killian can make a spectacle of himself in private; Kristoff does not mind watching him eat like a barbarian because he is not much better himself.

"Maybe we should stop here for the night", Kristoff suggests as Killian limps to the window once they are done but Killian does not respond because he is too busy staring at the three figures coming out into the courtyard from inside the inn.

It has been almost two decades since he had seen Lady Emma Nolan last, but she still wears her hair the same way, braided into two tick braids piled on top of her head and shining like molten gold, and even if he could not recognize his childhood friend, her father is impossible to mistake for anyone else.

"Captain? You look like you have just seen a ghost."

"No, not a ghost", Killian says softly, unable to take his eyes off Emma as she walks toward a coach ahead of her parents. "Just somebody I used to know."

"Somebody of the female variety?" Kristoff asks just as Emma turns around to say something to her mother and Killian sees her face; she looks pale and tired, and he can make out dark circles under her eyes even from across the courtyard, but she is still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"We used to be neighbours when we were children", Killian says softly and watches on as the Earl of Misthaven hands his wife and daughter into the coach and as it rocks out of the courtyard, followed by another one loaded with their luggage.

"Perhaps this time around you will be more than just neighbours", Kristoff tells him with a smirk when Killian finally moves away from the window and then he has to duck to avoid getting punched in the face.

Sadly, he is too quick and Killian's fist does not make contact.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	4. Three

**And here it is, the moment you have been waiting for; Emma and Killian finally seeing each other again. Let me know how you like it, and see you in two days for the update!  
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><p>Upon Killian's arrival at Storybrooke Manor, the staff is waiting on the front steps arranged in neat rows, headed by Mrs. Simms, the ancient housekeeper who was slightly less ancient the last time Killian was here, and a bearded gentleman who must be Liam's steward, Mr. Humbert.<p>

"We are so very happy to have you back, your Grace", Mrs. Simms says and holds out her hand for Killian's, her eyes brimming with tears when he limps over and takes her offered hand.

She was always sneaking him sweets and giving him cookies well before it was time for tea, telling him in a whisper that he was her favourite, and now Killian gives her a reassuring smile, introducing her to Kristoff and nodding to the maids and grooms before facing Mr. Humbert.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, your Grace", the man says and bows to Killian, inviting him to come in and assuring him that there are currently no pressing business issues, and that he will gladly answer all Killian's questions whenever he feels ready to ask them.

It is a relief to be dealing with somebody so sensible and Killian lets himself get swept inside, Mrs. Simms coaxing him into an early lunch he eats alone while Kristoff takes the trunks upstairs.

Afterwards, he gets assaulted with a wave of melancholy so profound that it feels like the walls of his childhood home are closing in on him, so he walks outside through the closest French doors as fast as he is able, following the gravel until he reaches the lawn and then carefully descending the gentle slope that leads to the lake.

He is as winded as if he had just ran miles and the wind makes his eyes sting as he looks out over the smooth surface of the lake, then realizes with a start that he is standing at the very place where Lady Emma had given him that celebratory kiss.

The possibility that she might be settling into Misthaven Hall even now fills him with a strange combination of longing and apprehension that he absolutely does not wish to contemplate at this time.

Over the year he had thought of Swan only in moments of great distress, always telling himself that she seems like a safe haven for the sole reason of being his only confidante; he never made any friends in school, and until Kristoff the same had been true in the Navy.

As the second son of a Duke he had not been interesting enough to attract hangers on and still not approachable enough to invite true friendship, but he had gotten used to the loneliness of it and dedicated everything to his service. Men respected him, and that was the most important thing, but standing at the edge of this lake with an aching knee and an aching heart, he catches himself imagining a chance meeting with Swan, then quickly shakes himself out of the daydream.

He stands watching the lake a while longer, letting his thoughts drift without settling on anything in particular ever if gold tresses keep interrupting; people always said that Lady Emma's eyes were the exact same colour as this lake and he wonders if it is still the truth.

"You bloody idiot", he says to himself and turns his back on the lake, making his slow way back to the house, gritting his teeth against the pain and coming in through the nursery wing instead going the long way around.

He halts just inside the playroom, shocked at the presence of a toddler sitting on the floor and playing with a wooden horse.

The child looks up and offers Killian a toothy grin, then sets the horse down and climbs to his feet with the help of his tiny hands before coming closer to where Killian is still rooted to the same spot.

"Who are you?" The child asks in a ringing voice and hugs the horse to his chest. "What is that?"

Killian shifts his bewildered gaze from the boy to the hook he is pointing at and hastily hides it behind his back, lest it scared the child.

"It is a hook", Killian says, then remembers that there was another question before the one he answered. "My name is Killian. Who might you be?"

"Owen", the boy says and offers Killian a beaming smile. "Will you play with me?"

Killian smiles wryly because only a child would talk so freely with a duke, and he is tempted to actually join him instead of leaving to figure out who the child in his old playroom belongs to.

Before he can make the final decision the inner door of the playroom opens and Mr. Humbert comes in, picks up Owen and profusely apologizes to Killian.

"He gets into a habit of wandering away from our rooms when I am busy elsewhere", Mr. Humbert says and scowls at the boy who Killian presumes is his son.

"It is quite alright", Killian says and winks at the boy. "The lad was simply looking for a playmate."

"A playmate", Mr. Humbert says, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. "Please tell me you did not invite his Grace to play with you, Owen."

"He wasn't mad", Owen says with a shrug and wiggles until Mr. Humbert does not have a choice but to set him down or risk getting hit in the face with a wooden horse.

"Please excuse me and my son, your Grace", Mr. Humbert apologizes again while steering Owen toward the door. "I will make sure he does not bother you again."

Before Killian can say anything else the father and son are gone, and he sits down heavily on a loveseat in the corner, giving in to hopelessness and remaining there all through the afternoon.

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><p>Emma is sitting behind a table in the parlour writing a letter to Elsa to inquire about her plans on leaving London, feeling a little bit guilty for being so impatient but it does not stop her from blotting out the later and neatly addressing the envelope.<p>

She is about to go to the library to pick a new book because she had already finished the one she started on the journey here even though they had returned just a day ago, but the door opens and her father comes in, his eyes bright from his outing.

"I am cross with you, papa", Emma fakes a pout and rises from the table, unable to hide a grin when her father laughs.

"What have I done now?"

"You have gone riding without me", Emma tells him and rings the bell so that the maid can take her letter to the post.

"I apologize profusely, but you still have not risen by the time I was well on my way", the Earl says, his eyes dancing with mirth as he settles down on the sofa. "I would offer to take you riding in the afternoon but we are going to have a guest."

"A guest? Whom?"

"The Duke of Storybrooke", the Earl says and Emma's eyes go wide.

"Killian?!"

"Ah, so you do remember him. You used to follow the Duke and his late brother like a puppy for a whole summer before their mother died."

"I was not following them!" Emma exclaims with indignation and feels her cheeks flush. "We were playing together, that is all."

Her father looks at her askance and Emma rolls her eyes, the gets up and crosses over to the window, looking down the drive-way as if Killian might already be approaching the house.

"Does he look well?"

"Well enough, I suppose. He had lost a hand, but it does not seem to hamper his riding", the Earl says and Emma feels her stomach descend to somewhere around her knees.

"He lost a hand", she repeats to herself as if saying the words would make them more real, but she cannot quite wrap her mind around such reality.

When she tries to remember what he had looked like when they were playing together, it is always more feelings than images; she knows that his hair was dark and his eyes were blue as the sky, but she simply cannot conjure up his face in her mind.

She can remember the feelings precisely, the pure joy she had felt during their games, especially those Liam had claimed too childish to participate in and went off on his own.

She had not felt the same joy since then.

Not even while dancing with Neal.

A couple hours later Emma is sitting on the sofa next to her mother, embroidery on her lap even though she does not intend to take it up because she does not have the patience for it at the moment.

She scolds herself for being so jittery and sets the embroidery on the table next to the sofa just as there is a knock on the door and the butler leads Killian in.

"The Duke of Storybrooke", Burns intones and Emma watches as Killian limps over to greet her father and quietly wonders how she had managed to forget his face.

She does not even notice the hook until Killian is standing in front of her and bowing over her hand, his lips only just grazing her knuckles.

"Lady Emma", he says and she belatedly realizes that she should have been standing, but since it is too late to fix her blunder, she just inclines her head, her voice surprisingly calm when she speaks.

"It is nice to see you again, your Grace", she says, almost chuckling because that is such an understatement.

"I know my husband has already expressed our condolences for the death of your brother, but let me say how sorry I am too", Emma's mother says when Killian moves on to bow over her hand and Emma's heart squeezes in her chest when a look of pain flashes over his face before he brings himself under control.

"Thank you, Lady Misthaven", Killian says graciously and takes a seat in a chair across from them while Emma's father remains standing.

"Emma was quite inconsolable once the word reached us", the Earl says and Emma somehow manages to withstand the full power of Killian's blue gaze.

"It was such a tragedy", the Countess says and Killian just nods; Emma feels his eyes on her even when she looks away as the tea tray arrives. "Will you pour, Emma?"

"Of course, mama", Emma rises and tries to keep her hands steady while she inquires about the way Killian takes his tea, thankfully managing to hand him the cup without a mishap.

She pours for her parents while Killian balances the saucer on his knee and it is only then that she starts thinking about the multiple ways missing a hand affects one's life, unexpected tears burning her eyes so that she has to turn back to the tea tray and take a long time to pour her own cup.

Emma seems to misplace her voice for the rest of Killian's visit, feeling foolish and wishing he would leave, at the same time feeling guilty for thinking like that.

The Earl asks about the War and suffers a withering look from his wife but Killian does not seem to mind and regales them with a couple of funny stories from his Navy days, his eyes seeking out Emma's and his dimples flashing in an entirely unfair way.

"It is such a lovely day today; we should all take a turn around the garden and take advantage of it", Lady Misthaven says and before long they are strolling outside, Emma's hand resting on Killian's arm, every fibre of her being acutely aware of their closeness.

He was her best friend and she convinces herself that he can be one again.

"You have been exceptionally quiet, Swan", he says, and as she smiles at the old nickname the awkward atmosphere between them finally dissipates.

"I am sorry, your Gace", Emma says, matching her steps to his limp and tipping her head to look at him from under her eyelashes. "It has been so long since we saw each other last, since..."

"Since you kissed me?" He asks and gives her an amused smile that warms her up inside and somehow puts her at ease.

"That was not a very gentlemanly thing to do", she tells him and points at a bench they are nearing. "Let us sit."

"You should not be trying to accommodate my leg", Killian admonishes her as they sit side by side and Emma shakes her head because she does not mind sitting instead of walking. "And I am always a gentleman."

"I was so mortified with what I had done", Emma steers the conversation away from the subject of his war wounds and he looks grateful that she had done it. "I thought they would arrest me for kissing you before we were married."

"We were betrothed? It seems I have forgotten that", Killian says, his eyes dancing with amusement until he notices that her smile has evaporated. "What is the matter, Swan?"

"Nothing, I just... Nothing", Emma answers quietly, and as she averts her eyes from Killian's probing gaze she finally realizes why she had been rejecting all those admirers before Lord Neal and why she feels more anger and betrayal than heartbreak at his rejection.

She had been chasing that elusive feeling of joy from her childhood all along, never realizing that it can only be recaptured with the person who had first made her experience it, and now that Killian is finally back, he is entirely out of her grasp.

It is a good thing that she has accepted her spinsterhood because otherwise she might just weep at her misfortune.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	5. Four

**Thank you everybody for all your feedback, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the ones that came before it; things are going to get highly improper (for that age). I am so excited for what comes next, so I'm posting chapters a little bit quicker than I planned at first; see you soon with an update!  
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><p>Killian finds that he cannot sleep in what used to be his father's bed, so he moves to one of the guest bedrooms despite the uproar Mrs. Simms causes over it.<p>

He tells her that he had never asked to be a Duke but now that the title has been forced upon him he will bloody well choose where he is going to sleep and storms off as fast as he can, pain lacing up his bad leg and angering him more.

A few minutes later he finds himself at the stables and he starts saddling Cesar, waving off a wide-eyed groom and telling him that he does not require assistance.

When he sets off, he does not really care where the horse takes him; he just wants to feel the wind in his hair and forget about all the things that are haunting him, somehow find a way to ignore the annoying voice at the back of his mind telling him that he needs to stop burying his head in the sand.

His thoughts want to stray to Swan, but he forces them away in hopes of protecting his heart even though he knows it is too late; she had looked horrified when he jested about their betrothal and her reaction cut him like a knife.

He wishes he could go back to sailing but he would not be able to do that even if he did not have the weight of all this responsibility; it is ironic that it is not the loss of his hand that has made him unfit for duty but the weakness in his leg.

At least neither is affecting his riding, he thinks gloomily as he gives the horse his head, galloping across the field despite the fact that he is swiftly nearing the hedge bordering it from the neighbouring one; he does not make a conscious decision of jumping it, simply lets his muscles take over despite the fact that it has been years since he had last done it.

Killian sails over the hedge with a foot of space but his elation is not long lived because there is a shriek coming from his right that startles his horse into bucking wildly and makes it rather impossible for Killian to stay in the saddle.

He lands on the grass rather inelegantly and the fall triggers another one of his episodes, the first since he had left London, and all the more scary for it.

The cannons are firing again, the thundering sound of it too loud in his ears mixing with the screams of the wounded and dying, black spots dancing in his vision while he desperately tries to hold onto sanity and claw his way back to safety.

It seems that the harder he tries to escape, the deeper into the waking nightmare he sinks.

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><p>Emma is walking along the hedge bordering the Misthaven property from Killian's, at the same time thumbing through one of the books she had taken from the library this morning in hopes of distracting herself from reliving the walk in the garden with Killian yet again.<p>

No matter how many times she tells herself that love is just not in the cards for her, she's not having much success in blocking his face from her thoughts, the words she reads meaningless until she finally gives up and closes the book just as a flash of something dark bowls her off her feet, the book falling from her hand when she lands on the damp grass.

It is only as she slowly sits up that she realizes what the dark flash was; it was a horse, and sitting upon it is Killian, fighting to get the frightened animal under control and getting unseated for his efforts.

The horse runs away past Emma as she climbs to her feet, her stomach dropping when Killian remains sitting where he had landed.

"Killian!" She exclaims as she kneels next to him, panic buzzing through her when he flinches from her touch, his gaze unfocused and his shoulders shaking with every gasping intake of breath. "Are you hurt?"

There is no response, his face growing even paler as he squeezes his eyes shut and digs his fingers into the grass.

"Killian, please", Emma says and wraps her arms around him, her face pressing against his neck as her heart thunders in her chest. "Come back. Come back to me."

She continues murmuring nonsense words of comfort and gradually he calms, his breathing evening out and her own synchronizing with his.

"I am terribly sorry", he says and she tips her head back, her arms still around him and her chin resting on his shoulder so that their faces are close, too close to be proper, but at the moment she does not care and he is still too rattled to object.

She feels such an overwhelming surge of affection and decides that there is no harm in befriending him again.

"Does it happen to you often?" She asks, sensing that this is the only opportunity she is going to have to ask him about things he does not want to think about, much less talk about.

"Every once in a while", he says with a sigh and closes his eyes again, his forehead resting against hers, suddenly making her acutely aware of the hard lines of his body pressed against her curves, of the way he smells and the fact that his hand is resting on her knee as if it had always belonged there.

Being his friend is already proving quite difficult.

Thankfully, a moment later Killian is pulling back and gently unwinding her arms from around him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes avoiding hers as he laboriously climbs to his feet.

"I cannot apologize enough, my lady", he says and offers her his hand to help her up, but she ignores it and gathers her skirt up, suddenly feeling unreasonably cross with him.

"What happened to calling me Swan?" She asks and picks up her book, thumbing at the dirt on the pale beige cover and feeling such an acute sense of longing that it almost takes her breath away.

"We have already breached many of the borders of propriety today; that is at least one I am able to maintain", he says and Emma gapes at him, completely lost for words. "Please excuse me. I shall endeavour to go find my horse."

"You cannot be serious", Emma exclaims and easily falls into step with him, halting when he does and huffing at his raised eyebrows.

"First you bowl me over with your reckless hedge jumping, then you have some kind of a breakdown and now you are just going to walk away without explanation?!"

"I did apologize, and I will do so again if-"

"I do not care about your apology!" Emma tells him and pokes his chest with her index finger. "I want to know what just happened and why are you running away from me."

"I am not running away, Swan", he says and the nickname softens her a bit, but since it's precisely what he wants, she does not let it show. "I am merely on my way to get my horse."

"We used to be friends", Emma says when he starts walking again and he gives her a quizzical look, then nods and returns his gaze to the uneven ground below his feet. "You used to tell me everything."

"That was almost two decades ago. We were children and now…" he trails off and looks at her for the briefest of moments, but in such a way that makes her skin heat. "Now we are not."

They walk in silence until they come upon Killian's horse grazing under a tree as if nothing had happened.

"You owe me an explanation", Emma says stubbornly and stands between Killian and his horse, not even caring if she comes off looking like a petulant child.

"Sometimes…" he starts, takes a deep breath and abruptly turns away, limping over to the tree roots protruding from the ground and settling on the biggest one with a relieved sigh. "Sometimes I get transported back to the thick of the battle. I have no control over when it happens or where, and I cannot find a way back unless there is somebody with me who forces me out of it."

Emma drifts closer to him and feels her heart squeeze in her chest at the broken sound of his voice, briefly wondering if she should maybe leave it be, but he has been so dear to her once upon a time and she cannot bring herself to stop him now that he seems ready to tell her all.

"Today was different", he says and looks up at Emma, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he squints to see her better in bright sunshine. "You did not force me out of the nightmare; you brought me back gently."

"You scared me", she tells him and lays her hand on his shoulder, feeling his muscles contract under the fabric of his coat as he lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around her wrist, but does not make her let him go like she expects him to do.

When she reached for him, she only wanted to offer him some comfort, and she is glad he sees it as such.

"I am sorry for that."

"I am glad I was there and that I could help."

"Perhaps I would not have had the episode if you did not shriek when I jumped the hedge", he says with a half-smile that grows wider when she glares at him.

"You could have yelled out some kind of a warning before you came hurtling over it. And I did not shriek."

"Cesar thought you did", Killian says and tips his head toward his horse that seems entirely disinterested in their conversation.

"Maybe a little bit. You gave me quite a fright."

"I did not expect you to be precisely there."

"Be careful next time, then. You never know who or what you might land upon."

"It was the first time I tried a stunt like that in years", Killian tells her and rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, making her wonder if he is even aware of it since it means yet another border of propriety breached.

"Did you like it?" She asks and he looks up at her with surprise, but still does not release her hand.

"Oh yes", he answers and gives her a bright smile that makes her heart stutter a little in her chest.

She does not remember him being so handsome, but then again, she was six and she measured all the men in her life against her father and found them all sorely lacking.

"How are things at the Manor?" She asks after a brief moment of pause, afraid that he is going to come to his senses and make his escape like a gentleman should when coming upon a single lady without a chaperone, even if said lady used to be his best friend. "Mama told me that Mrs. Simms is still working."

"She is a force to be reckoned with", Killian says and tugs on Emma's hand to make her sit next to him, then releases it abruptly and licks his lips in an awfully distracting way.

"And your brother's steward? But I suppose he is your steward now. How do you get along?"

"Well enough. He's got a young son, and the boy keeps following me around demanding that I play with him."

"And you do not like that?"

"I never quite know what to do with him, and besides, this hook is not really suitable for children to be around", Killian says and turns his arm so that the metal glints in the sunlight.

"Why do you keep it on, then? I would have expected you to have had some kind of a fake hand made", Emma says before she can think her words through, but Killian does not seem to think that she is being too forward.

It is as easy to talk to him now as it was when they were children, and yet she is well aware of the fact how very male he is; it is a good thing that she is settled on remaining a spinster and that he would never consider dalliance with somebody as soiled as her.

"I keep it on for a few reasons", Killian says and she waits patiently to learn what those reasons might be. "For one, it is useful."

"What else?"

"My left arm feels lighter than the right when I do not have it on", he says and Emma nods encouragingly, sensing that there is still a bigger reason to come.

"The ton does not like it."

"People are usually careful not to go against the flow", Emma tells him, but he shrugs and traces his finger over the hook's smooth surface.

"I went to White's the night before I left for the country and everybody was staring like I was some kind of a circus attraction. When one of my old friends had suggested that I replace the hook with a glove filled with wool, and everybody else had laughed, I decided then and there that the hook shall stay, and damn the ton", he says and closes his eyes with shame. "Forgive my language, Swan. It is not much of an excuse, but I have been living among sailors for a long time."

"I have too found out recently how cruel the ton can be", Emma tells him softly, ignoring his apology because she has heard much worse from her own father and cursing him in her mind when he turns the full power of his blue gaze on her because for the first time in her life she feels like she might actually swoon.

And Emma Nolan does not swoon.

Not even over handsome Dukes who talk to her openly and treat her like an equal.

"Who has hurt you, Swan?" Killian asks her and she jumps to her feet before she can make a complete fool of herself.

"It does not matter. I should go", she tells him, words tumbling out of her mouth even as she turns around and hurries away, her cheeks burning all the way home.

One part of her is glad that he does not follow, and the other is quite disappointed.

**Review?**


	6. Five

**This chapter is the calm before the storm, and the next few bring a lot of angst your way, so brace yourself. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!  
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><p>Emma is alone in the drawing room because her father has taken her mother riding and Emma did not feel up to being the third wheel. She loves her parents but they are so disgustingly in love and it gets tiring watching them exchanging private smiles, especially when she has no more hope left of ever finding her other half.<p>

Her thoughts stray to Lord Neal and she wonders briefly if the preparations for his wedding are underway yet, then shakes her head and plops back on the sofa with a huff.

She does not care about Lord Neal.

She does not care about men in general.

Except maybe Killian, but in a purely platonic way.

As if on cue, there is a knock on the door and Burns comes in, announcing the Duke of Storybrooke and stepping aside to let Killian enter.

Emma scrambles to sit up straight but she's too slow and Killian's lips quirk into a smile as he bows to her, while Burns leaves quietly, looking positively horrified with her behaviour.

"Good day, Swan", Killian says and hesitates when she remains sitting. "You will not send for your parents?"

"They are from home", Emma tells him and she knows what he is going to say before he says it.

"I should take my leave, then."

"How about a turn in the garden instead?" Emma suggests and walks out on the patio, pausing by the stone rail and hoping he joins her.

A minute passes and he finally comes out, offering her his arm, but she ignores it and walks beside him with her hands clasped behind her back.

They might be on the way to being friends again, but that is all.

"I've come to apologize for my abominable behaviour yesterday", Killian says and she could just scream because he insists on being so damn proper all the time.

"I'm the one who should apologize. I abandoned you quite abruptly", she tells him and stares at her feet because she knows that seeing his eyes would only jumble her thoughts and she would never be able to tell him what she needs him to know.

"You just removed yourself from an awkward situation. If anyone had seen us, your reputation would suffer quite a blow and I would be forced to offer for you."

Emma laughs, the sound ringing in the quiet of the garden and startling a couple of blackbirds from the bush they pass by.

"My reputation is already ruined. You need not fear that I would force you into marriage", she adds and grits her teeth, hating the bitter tone of her voice and refusing to look at Killian when he stops walking and lays his hand on her arm.

"What do you mean, love?" He asks, and he sounds so concerned about her, the gentle endearment falling from his lips so naturally that she lets herself hope he will not share the view of the ton and blame her like everybody else but her friends did.

"Let's sit", she says and he looks like he might argue, but when she moves away he follows her to the bench deep in the heart of the garden where they cannot be seen from the house.

"You seem intent on being alone with me, Swan", he says with an easy grin that is supposed to lighten up the atmosphere but it only makes her more acutely aware of him sitting next to her on the narrow bench. "Why is that?"

"I have always enjoyed your company", Emma tells him and feels her cheeks burn. "It is funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, is it not? So much has happened in our lives but when we are together like this, it seems that we are still the same."

"In my experience, people do not really change", Killian says and she chances a glance at his face, her eyes lingering on his full lips and fine jaw before she wrenches them up and their gazes lock, making her feel too hot to keep looking at him.

"Maybe not when they have already grown and became the people they were meant to be", Emma tells him and entwines her fingers together, looking at Killian's hand resting on his knee out of the corner of her eye and realizing that he somehow always manages to sit her on his good side.

She wonders if he does it on purpose of is it just by instinct that he keeps her well away from his hook.

"Who has ruined you, Swan?" Killian asks her softly and she shrugs, thinking how surreal it is that she is about to open her heart to him the way she had not done even with her closest friends.

He is so easy to talk to and he used to mean the world to her, so she supposes it is quite alright for her to be so open with him.

"Some would say I ruined myself."

"I would not", he tells her and she suddenly feels overwhelmed, the scars she had been denying revealing themselves in all their painful glory because of Killian's kindness. "You can tell me, love. I will not judge you or share your confidence with another soul."

Emma sighs and Killian holds out his hand palm up, her eyes darting to his in surprise because he is breaching the borders of propriety once more and this time he is doing it with a reassuring smile and challenging lift of his dark eyebrow.

"We were friends once upon a time, were we not?" He says and despite the vow she had made in the darkness of her bedroom that she would never again trust a man, she cannot help trusting him.

"Then you will not feel the urge to apologize for this tomorrow", she tells him and lays her hand in his, palm to palm, their fingers entwining together as if they have a will of their own.

"I promise not to."

"Very well", Emma says and when she next opens her mouth, a torrent of words comes out and she tells Killian everything. She tells him about the first time she had danced with Lord Neal and how charming he was, how she fell for him easily and how she did not care if people thought that they were spending too much together because she had always expected he would eventually offer for her and they would be happy together.

But he never did, announcing his engagement to Lady Regina Mills instead, and then rubbing salt in the wound by telling her he never had the intention to marry her because his father would disinherit him if he tried marrying below his station.

"I do not know the man personally, but he seems like a colossal ass. Pardon my language", Killian adds and Emma chuckles, only then realizing that there are tears rolling down her cheeks; she feels like a great weight has been lifted off her shoulders, and Killian keeps holding her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles and soothing her better than words ever could.

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><p>Killian is lost for words, desperately searching for something to say that would bring back the smile on Emma's face and wishing his left hand was still there so that he can keep holding Emma's and wipe away her tears at the same time.<p>

He looks at her and he is not even surprised to find that she looks beautiful even when she cries, her green eyes brighter than usual and so very vulnerable when she lifts them to his and asks him if he thinks she is a fool.

"No, Swan, I do not", he says calmly and squeezes her hand, losing himself in her eyes and marvelling at the fact that anyone would chose fortune over her.

"I was so looking forward to finally waltzing with him", Emma tells him so quietly that he can barely hear her, and it seems like that simple admission means more to her than all the ones that came before it.

"You have never waltzed?"

"Not even once", Emma says sadly and looks at him with her steady green eyes. "I am sorry if I have caused you pain."

"Pain?" Killian asks, completely thrown for a loop because even though pain has been his constant companion for the past six months, it seems to ease somewhat every time he is in Emma's presence.

"Would you be able to dance, if the opportunity presented itself?" She asks and wipes her cheeks with her knuckles, brightening up a little bit and looking so hopeful that he does not have the heart to disappoint her.

"Perhaps I would, if I had an understanding partner", he tells her and realizes that he suddenly wishes he could, but only if she would be the one dancing with him.

"Liar", Emma says and gives him a sad smile before she explains. "I can tell when people are lying to me."

"I was not lying per se", he assures her and looks down at his knees, thinking how unfair it is that they look the same hidden with the material of his trousers, but the left one is much weaker than the right. "I wish I could waltz with you, Swan."

Killian ducks his head in shame because he did not intend to tell her that. He did not intent to talk to her quietly in the deepest part of the garden either, or coax her into telling him about the hurt that made her run from London, but he cannot seem to think too clearly when she is around.

She just needs a friend and a shoulder to cry on, not another suitor who would only end up disappointing her.

"We would have to return to the City in order to find out, would we not?" Emma asks and slips her hand from his, gazing off into the distance and looking so forlorn he feels his frozen heart crack a little bit more.

"Unless the Duke of Storybrooke were to hold a ball for all his tenants and acquaintances", Killian says before he can think through his haphazardly assembled plan.

"And the Duke would do such a thing? Just to find out if he is indeed still capable of dancing?" Emma asks and shifts her eyes to his, and he realizes that he should thread carefully lest he disappoint her too.

"He would do it because Lady Emma Nolan wishes to waltz", he tells her and she looks pleasantly surprised, which makes him feel like the worst fraud in the history of England.

"But I could never ask him to do so just to make an old friend feel better", Emma says and offers him the perfect opportunity to back away.

But he had always appreciated a challenge.

"You did not ask", Killian tells her and feels a pang of guilt because he had only found out that Liam is dead a week ago and here he is already planning a ball.

"It could be a ball to celebrate the harvest", Emma says more to herself than him, as if she is trying to convince herself that such a ball would not hold a deeper meaning for either of them. "The year of mourning for Liam is going to be over and not even the most proper persons would be able to object to the ball."

"Then I shall hold a ball in six months", Killian says and it feels like something fateful has just happened, like some small piece that has been missing finally slid into place.

"A lot can happen in six months", Emma tells him and thoughtfully traces the pattern of her dress with her fingers before she tips her head back and looks up at the rapidly darkening sky. "It is going to rain."

"I am a man of my word, Swan. There is going to be a ball, and regardless of where you will be, the invitation will reach you. And your parents, of course."

"How do you know that you are going to be here?"

"Where else would I go?"

"You had missed your childhood home while you were away", Emma says and looks at him from under her eyelashes, and he wants to tell her that he did not miss the house or the surrounding property, and that he had only recently realized that it was his innocence he was missing, and by extension, his friend.

But he does not because he does not have anything to offer her beyond that revelation.

Emma has had her heart broken already, and the last thing she needs right now is his misplaced affections; she was already made so unhappy because someone failed to offer for her, and Killian would rather die that have her forced into marriage with somebody who is simply too broken to be anybody's husband.

Much less the husband of the woman who deserves the greatest love story of all time.

"You are quite perceptive. You always have been, Lady Emma", Killian says and slowly gets to his feet, then takes her hand and kisses her knuckles, savouring the smell of her skin and wishing he did not have to go.

But for both their sakes, he has to.

She wants only his friendship and he knows now that he cannot offer her even that.

"Am I going to see you again?" Emma asks, looking at him as if she understands what has just happened, and it breaks his heart that he is leaving her like this but he simply does not see another way.

"Of course you will, Swan. I promised you a ball, did I not?" He asks and forces himself to release her hand, gives her a curt nod and slowly limps away.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	7. Six

**Happy New Year everybody, but especially Lisa 1972, Nouqueret and Onetreefan who have been reading and reviewing my stories faithfully from the start****! May you get everything you wish for, and may we all have Emma and Killian finally spend the night together when the show comes back. Thank you for all your feedback, and to those of you who are confused because one moment Emma thinks she loved Neal and the next she hates him, consider what has been done to her; she did love him but he did not love her enough, so she is trying to convince herself that she was in love with the idea of him. Here comes the angst, so enjoy and let me know if you can figure out what the consequences of the events in this chapter are going to be!  
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><p>The dawn is breaking and Killian is lying in his bed staring at the ceiling the way he has been doing for the past few hours. A nightmare had woken him as per usual, but once he was awake, he could not go back to sleep no matter how hard he tried, and for a change it had nothing to do with the pain in either his leg or the hand that is not there anymore.<p>

Thoughts of Emma kept spinning in his head, and the more he tried to push them away, the more awake he became.

He finally gives up on trying to sleep around 6 a.m. and starts dressing himself even though Kristoff is going to be huffy because it is one of the things he gets paid to do, but Killian does not feel up for company.

Even if said company would help him dress so it would not take half an hour.

Killian hates the tiny buttons on his shirt and waistcoat, and he is often tempted to go without the vest or at least leave some buttons undone on the shirt, but he knows it is improper for a Duke and he does not wants to bring shame to the family name if he can help it.

Not to mention the fact that Kristoff would have a fit if he saw him going about like that.

The thought makes Killian smile as he leaves his bedroom and limps down the hallway, carefully descends the stairs and goes into the library because he does not have much appetite this morning.

He wonders if Emma is still sleeping, curled up in a ball on her bed, her golden hair spread out on the pillow like a halo, or if she is awake, unable to sleep like he is.

She must be asleep, he decides and takes a book off the shelf at random, nostalgia hitting him when it turns out to be a dog-eared copy of Robinson Crusoe.

He still remembers the day he had rowed out to the little island on the lake and sunk his boat so that he could better pretend to be Robinson stuck on a deserted island.

Liam betrayed his plan as soon as their mother had asked where her younger son was and Killian was brought home, thoroughly yelled at and sent to bed without supper.

He was stuck on the island for no more than forty-five minutes, but even that had felt like an eternity.

Killian settles into a comfortable armchair and opens the book, but before he can start reading there is a clattering noise coming from the corner and he looks up to find Owen hiding under one of the tables pushed to the wall.

"Good morning, lad", Killian says and remains where he is, only tilting his head to see the child better. "What are you doing there?"

"I don't want to go back to bed. If Mrs. Simms finds me she will make me sleep again", Owen says and looks at Killian pleadingly. "Please don't tell her."

"She means well, you know", Killian tells him and smiles when Owen shakes his head so hard his dark locks fly around his face. "But I shall stay here, so your secret hiding place is safe with me."

Owen comes out from under the table and tiptoes to Killian's chair, then rests his chin on the arm of it and looks at him expectantly.

"Will you read me a story?" He asks hopefully and Killian pretends to be giving it some thought. "Daddy used to read me stories but now he is always busy."

"I have this story here, but it is quite long", Killian tells him and taps the book with his hook, vowing to finally go and have that talk with Mr. Humbert.

"Is it good?"

"It is the best."

"What happens in it?"

"A man is shipwrecked on a deserted island and he has to rely only on his wits in order to survive."

"What does shipwrecked mean?" Owen asks and Killian suddenly feels like he might have an episode, so he closes his eyes and breathes deeply because it sometimes helps him to remain in the here and now. "Does your arm hurt?"

Before Killian can answer him, Owen scrambles on his lap and leans against his chest, his little hand caressing Killian's forearm as he hums something unintelligible under his breath.

Killian is both startled and comforted, and he thanks the Lord that the episode does not happen with Owen so close to his hook because even though it is not sharp at all, it is heavy and quite capable of hurting somebody as small as Owen.

"Is it better now?"

"Yes, lad, it is better", Killian says and takes the hook off, sets it on the table next to his chair and ruffles Owen's hair. "What was the song you were humming?"

"I don't remember", Owen tells him and points at the book. "Will you read to me now?"

"As you wish, my boy", Killian says, puts his good arm around Owen and starts reading him Robinson Crusoe.

It is the least he can do to repay Owen's father for all the good work he has been doing for the estate.

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><p>Emma's parents have decided that it is high time for them to return the Duke of Storybrooke's visits, so she is forced into pretending to have another terrible headache and stay in bed until they have gone.<p>

She feels bad for lying because she is pretty sure her mother did not believe her, but it was clear during Killian's last visit that he was not interested in spending more time with her and being forced to offer for her, and she will not be one of those girls who manipulate their future husbands into marriage.

Emma is just fine on her own, and if her prospects have been ruined, she does not have to drag Killian down with her.

The trouble is, she is slowly running out of things to do; she is making her way through interesting books quickly, embroidery was never something he enjoyed very much, it is raining so she cannot go riding, and with her parents gone she does not even have somebody to talk to.

If only their housekeeper was more like Mrs. Simms, because Emma remembers how chatty she is and how she was never intimidated of either the Duke or his wife, much less their children.

Finally, Emma sits in front of the piano and decides to practice a little bit now that her father cannot complain about the way she plays, a smile lifting her lips because she really is quite bad and he is the only person who dares to admit it, and even tease her about it.

She loses herself in the music and only looks up an undeterminable time later when there's a knock on the drawing room door and Burns enters, announcing the Duke of Storybrooke in a soft, shaky voice and then retreats before Emma can ask him what is wrong.

One look at Killian's face lets her know that something awful has happened, and since her parents were on the way to visit him the last time she saw them, she jumps to the obvious conclusion.

"Are they dead?" Emma asks, tears rapidly filling her eyes because this cannot be happening.

Killian comes to kneel in front of the piano bench she is sitting on, wincing when his knee makes contact with the hardwood floor and covering her hands with his.

"There was a coach accident", Killian tells her, his voice sounding hoarse and flat and filling her with more dread than she had ever before felt in her life.

"Are they dead?"

"Your mother is shaken and a little banged up, but I have sent for a physician never the less and left her in Mrs. Simms' capable hands until his arrival."

Killian's hair is wet from the rain and so are his clothes, his skin cold where his broad palm is covering her shaking hands, but Emma feels an even greater chill creeping around her heart as she speaks.

"What about my papa?"

"I am so sorry, love", Killian says and she takes a shuddery breath, then releases it on a sob, both her hands flying to her mouth because she is afraid she would scream and never stop otherwise.

"No, please", she chokes out, looking at Killian with pleading eyes and shaking her head because this is not possible, this is just a nightmare and he has the ability to wake her up from it. "Please."

"I am sorry", he repeats and reaches out his hand to wipe away her tears, but they just keep coming and she does not know how to stop them, does not know how to stop shaking or how to breathe.

Her father is dead and it seems like the weight of the whole world has settled on her shoulders.

"Swan, look at me. You need to calm down a bit, love", Killian's voice comes from a great distance and she wonders if today is going to be the day she swoons, but somehow she manages to bring his face into focus and keeps the sobs locked inside her throat. "Just breathe, alright? In and out, in and out."

Emma does as he says and after a while she manages to get her breathing under control, but then he brushes at a lock of hair that has fallen from the knot at the back of her neck and she falls apart once again.

"What am I going to do?" She chokes out and collapses forward, his arms catching her so that her face ends up pressed against his shoulder, her hands trapped between them.

"It will be alright, Swan. Everything will be alright", he tells her but there is not a lot of conviction in his voice, his body rigid and his heart hammering hard and fast against her own ribcage.

Emma cries until there are no more tears left, and then she feels awfully embarrassed for allowing him to see her cry like this, which makes it even harder to pull away and let him go.

Killian is so solid and he smells so nice, but what helps Emma the most are his arms around her, steady and sure and loose enough so that she does not feel trapped.

They should not be doing this.

He should not hold her so intimately even if it feels like she is going out of her mind with grief and his presence is the only thing that is helping her stay sane.

"You better go", Emma says and abruptly pulls away, ignoring his stricken expression and getting to her feet so that she can put as much distance between them as she is able.

"Swan?"

"I would like you to leave", Emma says, her voice breaking because her father is dead, and he is never going to hold her again.

"I have come to take you to your mother", Killian tells her softly and she is suddenly mad at him, so incredibly incensed because her parents were on the way to see him and whatever has happened would not have happened if they had just stayed home.

"I do not want to go anywhere with you. I will take my horse and come alone", Emma says and Killian's calm makes her even more determined to chase him away.

"It is pouring outside, Swan. Your mother is already devastated; she does need you to catch your death from a cold on top of everything else", he says and Emma squeezes her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palms and helping her recognize that he is right.

"I shall go fetch my coat and gloves", Emma says curtly and flees from the room, the pain returning the second her anger dissipates because she knows it was not really Killian's fault that there was an accident.

It was her fault that she was not there, that she has wasted precious time she could have had with her father.

She had not even looked at him when her parents were leaving, curled on her bed with her eyes closed as she pretended to have a debilitating headache.

Her chest feels like it is being squeezed in a vice and Emma doubles over, sinking down on the stairs and holding her hand against her ribs until the pain lessens.

By the time she returns to the drawing room with her coat and gloves Killian is gone, and when she goes outside she discovers that he had taken the horse and left his coach and driver behind for her to use.

Emma gets into the coach with her head held high, but as soon as the door closes after her she puts her face in her hands and weeps.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	8. Seven

**I know you are angry at me for killing David, but I had to sacrifice him for the sake of the plot which I am sure you are going to like. Thank you to those of you who keep encouraging me and I hope you enjoy both the angst and the bombshells that get dropped in this chapter.  
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><p>Killian stays out of Emma's way as she coaxes her mother to come back home with her, and they use Killian's coach again at the insisting of his valet. Emma feels awfully guilty for the way she had treated him after everything he had done but she has some pride left, so she does not go looking for him to apologize.<p>

There will be time for that later, she thinks and holds her mother's hand as it keeps raining both outside and inside the coach.

Emma does not cry anymore even though her sinuses are burning as she holds her weeping mother in her arms and rocks her like a child, desperately trying to stay strong and composed.

The Earl of Misthaven's body is delivered a few hours later dressed in the finest clothes the money can buy, everything fitting him perfectly even though it is not the clothes he had been wearing when he left the house for the last time.

Emma feels like days and days have passed since she sat at the piano and played uplifting tunes; she feels bone-weary and there are still so many things she needs to take care of because her mother cannot do anything, just sits on a chair next to her husband's body with her hand resting on his arm and her cheek pressed against his chest, as if she is listening for some sign of life after death.

Burns proves he is worth his weight in gold when he keeps suggesting people Emma should notify because her brain feels like wool, and it is much easier to just write down the names than actually come up with them.

That first night passes without neither Emma nor the dowager Countess sleeping at all, both sitting with the Earl, one on each side of him, both so ghostly pale that one of the maids has a fit of vapours when she comes in to offer them tea.

The Earl's brother arrives the next morning, and even though he looks exactly like her father, Emma had never liked him much; she is glad for his presence even if it brings her more pain because it means she can finally stop being strong. He assures her that he will arrange the funeral and hire extra servants, and Emma is glad to be able to escape the perimeter of her mother's pain.

Even though Emma finds it hard to imagine ever smiling again, her mother must feel even worse; she is completely unaware of anything happening around her because all her attention is focused on her dead husband at all times.

When Emma finally undresses and lies down in her bed it is already mid-morning, and she decides that she is glad she had never found a true love.

She does not want to share her mother's fate some day, she does not want to sit next to the love of her life and hold his stiff, cold hand in hers.

Sleep comes quickly but it does not bring relief, and Emma wakes up crying, her long hair tangled around her and her nightgown drenched with sweat.

It has been a day since she last ate anything and her stomach feels like a void, so she gets dressed and marches into the kitchen, demanding dinner to be served in half an hour.

She finds her mother crying on her uncle's shoulder and for a moment she is confused, but then he looks up and his eyes are like two blocks of ice, and she is ashamed that she had managed to confuse him for her father.

"The dinner will be ready soon", Emma says, her voice raspy with misuse and nods her gratitude when he tells her that the funeral will be in two days' time.

Elsa arrives the next day and gathers Emma in her arms, rocking her gently and caressing her hair until Emma quiets, and then sits with her in silence, holds her hand and offers more comfort than anybody else could.

The black mourning dresses Emma's uncle has ordered feel awful on Emma's skin and she keeps tugging at the sleeves, feeling like she might scream if she stays locked inside the house for much longer, but the family friends keep calling and her mother is not fit for company so Emma is forced to sit with them and make empty small talk with her uncle by her side.

She wonders if it is frightening him to see his brother's face and know that his own will look that way someday but she does not dwell on the conundrum too long, playing the perfect hostess and accepting condolences until she is so tired of it all she just wants the funeral to be over and everybody to leave her alone.

Killian does not come to call and Emma thinks it is for the best, remembering the way she had fallen apart in his arms and how mean she was to him when he had never done anything to deserve it.

She will have to apologize, but right now she cannot focus on thinking about the words that she is going to say.

Cousin Jefferson arrives on the day of the funeral and kisses the back of Emma's hand in a way that makes her skin crawl, so she snatches it back and tells him that she needs some fresh air.

It is balmy outside so she does not take her cloak but Jefferson follows after her and drapes it around her shoulders anyway, his presence making her feel like she is suffocating even though she has finally escaped the confines of the house.

"Has Father talked to you about your inheritance?" Jefferson asks and Emma stops dead in her tracks, unable to believe that he would bring up money in a moment like this.

"No, he has not", Emma tells him curtly and walks on, trying to figure out a way to leave him behind without insulting him awfully.

"He wanted to spare you, but I am of the opinion that you should know your choices", Jefferson says pompously and Emma feels a cold chill creep down her spine.

"What choices?"

"You are unmarried, Emma, and therefore all your inheritance will pass onto your father's next male successor", Jefferson says and blood rushes in Emma's ears, her eyes wide when she looks up at his cruel smirk. "Me."

"No, that cannot be true", Emma whispers but she knows that it is; her father often talked about writing a will that would make her his sole heir, but he had never gotten around to doing it, and now Emma and her mother are going to pay the price.

"Oh but it is. Your choice is simple; marry me or lose everything", Jefferson tells her and cups her cheek in his hand, and she is so stunned she just stands there and lets him touch her like that.

"I could marry somebody else", Emma says without conviction and he just shakes his head at her, his thumb smoothing over her cheek.

"Who would have you but me? The whole ton knows you have dallied with Lord Neal Cassidy and given herself over to him like a little whore", Jefferson says and Emma moves on an instinct, takes a step back and plants him a facer that makes her own teeth rattle.

"This little whore would rather die than marry you", Emma tells him and runs back into the house with her heart in her throat and blood frozen in her veins.

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><p>On the morning of the Earl of Misthaven's funeral Killian sends Kristoff to see if Emma needs anything and ends up being late because he cannot decide if he should leave the hook at home or not. He does not want to be the centre of attention during such an occasion which would undoubtedly happen if he shows up with a metal weapon attached to the end of his arm, but at the same time he does not want to conform to the ton and what they consider proper.<p>

In the end he compromises and gets into the coach wearing only his brace, fidgeting with the coat cuff all the way to Misthaven Hall.

The house is filled with the late Earl's family and friends and Killian feels a little out of place, but when he enters the parlour to pay his respects to Emma and her mother, the dowager Countess grasps his hand tightly in hers and thanks him for coming.

Emma looks like a shadow of herself, her face pale and her hair dull against the severe black of her dress, but it is her eyes that scare him the most; there is not even a spark of that fire that always burned in their beautiful green depths and Killian had never wanted to hold her in his arms more than he does now.

"I am so very sorry for your loss, Swan", he tells her softly so that nobody but her can hear the old nickname, and when she sets her hand in his her lips curl up, but her fragile smile is gone in the next moment and Killian is forced to move away to allow others to offer their condolences.

He ends up walking in the funeral procession next to the Marquess of Arendelle and his wife, who turns out to be one of Emma's closest friends.

"Something must have happened yesterday but she will not tell me what", Lady Arendelle tells Killian is a whisper and while he is glad that she is confiding in him, he wonders what made her do that.

"I still remember the pain and confusion when my father died. It is a lot to take", Killian says but Lady Arendelle shakes her head impatiently.

"I know Emma. This goes beyond the pain over her father's passing, I promise you."

"This is supposed to be a respectable funeral procession", the Marquess tells his wife and shoots Killian an apologetic look over her head. "We will get to the bottom of it but for now let us be quiet, alright, darling?"

"You be quiet, Will Scarlet", Lady Arendelle tells him sharply and turns back to Killian. "Would you please try to talk to her later? I am sure she will tell you."

"You are her best friend, Lady Arendelle. Why on Earth do you think she would speak to me when she does not want to share her secret with you?"

"Elsa, I do not think-"

"Oh hush both of you. Just trust me and do as I said."

"Story of my life", the Marquess says with a long suffering sigh and earns an elbow in the ribs, so Killian hastily promises to talk to Emma.

Frankly, he would do anything just to shut Lady Arendelle up so that the other mourners stop glaring at the three of them.

Killian does not get a chance to talk to Emma in private for hours and by the time he catches her on her own in the garden his entire leg feels like it might disintegrate if he does not sit down soon.

"You should not be here", Emma says when he limps close but still scoots over on the bench to give him room.

He cannot contain the sigh of relief or keep himself from rubbing his knee with his hand because he is in too much pain to try and hide his weakness from Emma.

"Today must have been trying for you", she says softly and he feels like the worst weakling because she is absolutely right.

"Not as trying as it had been for you."

"I am just glad it is all over. Is that an awful thing to say?"

"No, love, it is not", he reassures her and watches her profile as she stares at her lap.

"I cannot believe he is gone", she whispers and takes a steadying breath, her shoulders looking frail as they lift with her inhalation.

"The pain will dull in time", he tells her and she nods mutely, and as they sit in silence, he marvels how comfortable it is just to be with her even when they are queit.

"Elsa told you to talk to me", Emma says and Killian opens his mouth to lie, then remembers her secret gift and decides not to.

"Yes, she did."

"I did not tell her because there is nothing she could do to help and I did not want her to worry."

"Worry about what, love?"

"My father did not write a will before he died", Emma says and Killian closes his eyes because he knows what that means.

"Your bloody cousin is going to inherit everything", Killian murmurs and when she looks at him steadily he cannot help admire her strength even in the face of all this tragedy.

"My mother would not survive losing this house", Emma says and Killian seethes silently because even a brief encounter with Emma's cousin was enough to tell him what kind of a man he is. "I have to marry him if I want to keep her alive."

"Swan, you can't", Killian exclaims, dread filling his gut at the thought of Jefferson's greasy paws on Emma's unwilling body.

"I do not have a choice, Killian. I should feel lucky that he even wants to marry me", Emma whispers and Killian balls his hand into a fist, wishing he could pound her cousin into the ground with it.

"You could marry somebody else", Killian tells her and her laugh is a broken, mirthless sound.

"I am no better than a prostitute in the eyes of the ton, and even if some of them would marry me for my inheritance, there is no time to go looking for them. I must marry by the end of the week and the only one who would have me is cousin Jefferson."

"I would have you", Killian says, the words falling from his lips easily and leaving him feeling entirely at peace.

Emma shakes her head and watches him with wide eyes as he kneels in front of her, takes her hand in his and gives her a reassuring smile before he speaks.

"You have been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and you have grown into the most beautiful, courageous and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. It would be the greatest honour to become your husband even if would just be a marriage of convenience. Will you marry me, Swan?"

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	9. Eight

**I am so overwhelmed with all your feedback after the last chapter, and happy that you like the direction I am taking with this story. Without further ado, here's the new chapter!  
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><p>"Will you marry me, Swan?" Killian asks and Emma abruptly snatches her hand away.<p>

"How can you even ask me that?! I only told you about my situation because you are my friend, and now you are making it seem as if I was trying to trap you!" Emma tells him sharply and gets up from the bench, needing to put some distance between them.

"Love, wait, I did not mean to offend you!" Killian comes after her and she turns to glare at him, wishing she had kept her misfortune to herself.

"Then why would you offer for me like this?"

"Up until a few minutes ago I never expected to marry or produce an heir", Killian tells her, his eyes finding hers only briefly before he ducks his head and looks at his brace. "You need to marry, and I just thought you would rather be married to a friend than to somebody you despise."

"We used to say we would marry for love", Emma says softly, remembering the day when little Killian and little Emma sat side by side in a tree house and whispered their deepest secrets to each other.

He wanted to be a sailor.

She wanted to see Paris.

They both wanted to be as happy as their parents were in their marriages.

"I remember, Swan", he says and holds his hand out for hers. "Would it me so bad being married to me?"

"What if we get married and you meet somebody you develop feelings for? You would hate me."

"I could never hate you. And besides, who would love a handless Captain without a ship prone to strange panic episodes?

Emma does not say anything to that, her gaze locked on his waiting hand, an overwhelming wave of affection sweeping over her and allowing her to believe that this is the man who will not disappoint her.

And so she takes his hand in hers and wraps her fingers around his brace, feeling him stiffen a little and vowing that she will repay him for all the kindness by showing him how wonderful he is.

"I will marry you on one condition", she tells him and her heart turns over in her chest when he smiles, dimples flashing on both sides of his mouth making him look boyish and happy.

"Anything", he tells her and she is stunned because it seems like he does not view marriage to her as duty, or something he is only doing because he wants to help a friend in need.

"Keep your mistresses well-hidden. I do not want to know about them."

"Mistresses? There will be no mistresses, Swan", he says, his smile disappearing as fast as it had appeared, his hand still in hers but seeming much less pliant than before.

"I thought we were to have a marriage of convenience."

"And so we shall if it is what you want, but Jones men do not stray, and I will not do it either. I can promise you that", he says and Emma feels too overcome with emotion to speak. "Will you marry me, Swan?"

"Yes, Killian, I will", Emma says and thinks dazedly how she should not feel this elated with the prospect considering the circumstances that have led her here, but when Killian squeezes her fingers and gives her a smile she realizes that she is not afraid of the future anymore.

She also thinks that someday soon she might even come to love him.

"Do you wish to tell your family or do you want to keep it a secret until we are husband and wife?" He asks her and offers her his arm, leading her into a lazy stroll around the garden.

"Is it terrible that I want to announce it in view of everyone so they can see cousin Jefferson change colours?"

"I would like to do much worse than just watch him change colours", Killian says and she finds that she likes his overprotective side.

But he can never know that.

"You will do no such thing. Everything needs to be civil for Mama's sake."

"Of course I will not", Killian assures her as they walk around the house and toward his coach, and she realizes only then how she does not want him to go yet.

"We have a lot to talk about. Why won't you stay longer?"

"Because I am not family yet. And because I need to leave right now if I want to return with the special license so we can get married by the end of the week", Killian tells her and even though it all seems perfectly reasonable, Emma feels like she is being abandoned yet again. "Do you trust me, Swan?"

"I do", Emma answers without a moment's hesitation as they pause beside the coach and he turns toward her, takes her hand in his and lays it against the left side of his chest.

"I will come back as soon as I can and we will be married on Saturday", Killian tells her firmly and she closes her eyes, feeling his heart beat steady and true in the palm of her hand.

"Thank you", she whispers, a few tears rolling down her cheeks, the relief that she will not have to marry Jefferson too violet for her to be able to hold them back.

"Shhh", he shushes her softly and presses his lips against her forehead, his handless arm going around her waist and briefly holding her against him. "I will take care of you, love, and we are going to be happy."

Emma nods against his chest and stands back so that he can get into the coach, and she stays where she is as it rocks down the driveway, taking Killian away from her.

She hopes he will keep his promise and return to her as fast as he is able.

* * *

><p>Killian pauses at Storybrooke Manor only long enough for Kristoff to pack them each a valise and for Mrs. Simms to force some dinner into both of them, and then they are on the way to visit the archbishop of Westminster and acquire the special license Killian and Emma need to get married.<p>

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kristoff asks after they have been on the road for ten minutes and Killian has explained where they are going and why.

"Which part?"

"All of it", Kristoff says and rolls his eyes at Killian's warning look. "We both know why you are really doing this."

"Do we? Enlighten me if you will", Killian says and wishes for the hundredth time that Kristoff would act like a normal valet and agree with everything his master said.

But then again, if he did that, Killian would probably not be employing him anymore.

"You enjoy being able to play the knight in shining armour again", Kristoff says and holds his hand up when Killian tries to argue. "You've been bored out of your mind since you came home and Lady Emma is a welcome distraction."

"You could not be more wrong", Killian says and smiles when he remembers how Emma had stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched the coach drive away until they had rounded the corner and he could not see her anymore.

"Oh wonderful. You fancy yourself in love with her."

"I do not fancy myself anything."

"You should have seen your face a minute ago", Kristoff says and shakes his head as if he does not know quite what to do with Killian. "She will break your heart."

"Enough!" Killian exclaims and glares across the coach because even though he is a patient man, he has come to his limit. "We shall not discuss Lady Emma anymore. I will marry her and we are going to be happy."

"I hope you will", Kristoff says softly and closes his eyes, softly snoring a few minutes later.

Killian, on the other hand, cannot find a comfortable position. His leg is aching worse than it had in weeks and he props his foot on the edge of Kristoff's seat, sighing with relief and trying not to second guess his decision to marry Emma because he knows he will not change his mind.

There is no doubt that Jefferson would break her spirit and make her miserable, and Killian simply cannot allow that to happen.

She seemed so surprised when he had told her that he will not take a mistress, and although it might be foolish, it gives him hope that she might come to care for him someday, and that their marriage of convenience might turn into one of love.

Eventually, Killian manages to sleep a little despite the uncomfortable position and the license is acquired without any problems, but Kristoff manages to convince him to take a room in the inn and spend the night there by telling him that Emma will not appreciate it if he returns looking worse than death warmed over.

In his haste to leave Killian had left his hook at home and he finds that he misses it, then realizes that he is going to have to ask Emma if she minds it once they are married.

Somehow he thinks that she will not, but he is ready to get a fake hand if she so prefers it.

The ride back seems to last days and Killian is tempted to just jump on a horse and ride off, but his leg seems to be getting worse and the last thing Emma needs is him ending up broken in some ditch on the side of the road.

He keeps reaching into his coat inside pocket and feeling the special license, and not even Kristoff's pointed looks can spoil his good mood.

They finally reach Storybrooke Manor in the middle of the night on Thursday and Killian spends the rest of it rolling from side to side in his bed and trying to imagine what Emma's face is going to look like when he goes to see her tomorrow morning and she realizes that he has not let her down.

Kristoff helps him dress as soon as the sun is up and proclaims him passably presentable, and Killian rides over to Misthaven Hall as fast as Cesar can take him.

Emma is in the drawing room with her mother and uncle and Killian is slightly disappointed that Jefferson is not there, but Emma's smile is more than enough to make up for that.

"You came back", she says and he presses a lingering kiss to the back of her hand, ignoring the look her uncle is giving him and politely bowing to the dowager Countess.

"You have been travelling?" Lady Misthaven asks and Killian nods, then follows Emma to the love seat and sits down next to her, still holding her hand in his.

"Mama, Uncle, Killian and I are getting married. Tomorrow", Emma adds and he squeezes her trembling fingers, offering her silent reassurance.

Lady Misthaven looks like she might have a fit of the vapours and Lord James' eyes flash dangerously in Killian's direction.

"Emma! Whatever has possessed you to announce your engagement less than a week since-", Lady Misthaven starts to say, then trails off and sniffles into her handkerchief.

"Ask Uncle that", Emma says with her chin held high and a challenging look in her eyes, and Killian realizes that he has been in such a denial since the moment they had met again.

He fell for her the day they had first walked in her garden; he just was not ready to admit it.

"I think Emma is alluding to the law that says a daughter cannot inherit unless she is married", Lord James says haughtily and despite his calm exterior, Killian can see exactly how rattled he is.

"Oh darling girl", Lady Misthaven exclaims and goes to sit on Emma's other side, her hands framing her daughter's face. "Are you quite sure about this? I am sorry, your Grace, I do not mean that you are not worthy of Emma, but I do not want my daughter to marry just for the sake of her inheritance."

Emma and Killian exchange a long look and Emma smiles at her mother, kisses her cheek and tells her that they all know how hopelessly in love she had been with Killian when they were children, and how those feelings have come back easily during the few occasions he has come to call.

Killian knows she is just saying what her mother wants to hear, but it still warms him up inside to hear her gushing like so about him even if she does not really mean all of it.

Lord James is glaring at all three of them but quickly plasters a smile on his face when Lady Misthaven looks at him, and Killian can feel Emma stiffen when her mother actually apologises that Jefferson will be left without the inheritance he has been looking forward to.

Killian gives Emma a warning look and entwines their fingers together, and eventually she relaxes, her shoulder brushing his and the scent of her hair filling his nose, somehow making everything seem less like a dream.

This time tomorrow they are going to be married and he will have the rest of their lives to make her happy.

* * *

><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	10. Nine

**You guys are blowing me away with your response to this story, and I can't wait to see what you make of this chapter. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!  
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><p>Emma opens her eyes to her mother shaking her and telling her that it is her wedding day.<p>

"What?"

"You need to get ready, come on", Lady Misthaven says and her eyes are brighter than they have looked this entire week, Emma's sleepy brain finally waking up enough for her to remember yesterday and propel her out of her warm bed.

"Nine o'clock?! Oh Mama why did you wait so long to wake me up?" Emma exclaims when she notices how late it is and proceeds to walk aimlessly around the room, her stomach feeling like a ball of lead.

"Emma, calm down", her mother says sternly and makes her sit down in front of the mirror so that she can start untangling her long locks. "You have time."

"But Mama-"

"Hush now. You will be ready and absolutely beautiful for your wedding", Lady Misthaven says and Emma forces herself to take a deep breath.

Elsa comes into the room just as Emma's hair is done up in a simple chignon and claps her hands excitedly when Emma turns from the mirror, and then suddenly her eyes are filled with tears and Emma's mother is crying already, telling Emma that she had always known she would eventually find her happy ending.

"Where is the dress?" Emma asks briskly and blinks fast because her vision is getting suspiciously blurry, and then for the next twenty minutes all three of them are wrestling with her shift and stays and stockings, and then finally the dress.

Once the gown is on, Emma twirls in front of the mirror and admires her figure in a pale lavender silk that signifies her mourning but still looks prettier than severe black she had been drowning in since her father's passing.

"You look lovely", Elsa says and Emma wonders briefly if Killian will think so too, then takes Elsa's hand and lets her drag her to the dining room for a light breakfast.

"Ruby is going to be mad at me for getting married without her", Emma says as she tries to force a few more bites of her omelette down because she absolutely does not want to swoon in front of the congregation today.

"She will forgive you when you tell her about the circumstances", Elsa reassures her friend and pours her tea, and before long Emma is riding to church with her mother and uncle in the coach with her. Her uncle is the last person she would chose to give her away but she does not have much choice in the matter so she holds her tongue and takes his offered arm, her heart beating double time in her chest as the church doors open and they step through them.

At least cousin Jefferson is not in attendance.

The absence of Emma's father is like a physical pain deep inside her soul but Emma holds her chin up and steps boldly down the aisle, a smile curling her lips when she sees Killian waiting for her, and she must admit he looks extremely handsome in a dark coat and white waistcoat with golden accents, his face freshly shaven and his blue eyes shining as she approaches.

He has left the hook at home the way he had done for her father's funeral and she decides that she is going to talk to him about that because she does not mind it and she would rather not have him struggle more than necessary just for her sake.

Emma's uncles kisses her cheek but she does not take her eyes from Killian's, gratefully laying her hand along his bad arm and giving him a reassuring smile because it really is quite alright, and besides, he is going to need his hand to put the ring upon her finger.

"You look stunning, Swan", Killian whispers as the priest approaches them and she inclines her head, suddenly feeling absurdly shy standing beside him like this.

"Thank you", she whispers and is unable to return the compliment because the priest gives her a stern look and starts the sermon.

Emma tries to pay attention but Killian's smiles and eyes dancing with joy are distracting her and she almost misses her cue when it is her turn to say "I do".

Killian says his vows calmly and clearly, but Emma notices his hand trembling slightly as he puts a dainty golden ring on her finger, his eyes finding hers and taking her breath away with their honesty and affection.

When Emma had agreed to marry him she did not expect that the wedding ceremony would make her feel so emotional, much less that there would be tears welling in her eyes when his hand covered hers on his sleeve.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife", the priest says and Emma is mortified when she realizes that they are going to have their first real kiss in front of all their friends and her family.

Killian notices the panic that must be written all over her face and his smile falters, the kiss Emma was reluctant to give in public ending up not being given at all because Killian just presses his lips against her cheek in a chaste and gentle way that still makes her skin tingle.

Emma wants to hide her burning face against his shoulder but she turns with him and accepts congratulations as they move down the aisle toward a waiting coach that is going to convey them to Storybrooke Manor together where the rest of the wedding party is going to join them for an early luncheon.

She barely hears what people are saying to her, just smiles about her and nods genially, holding onto Killian's arm for dear life and breathing a sigh of relief when he finally hands her into the coach and gets in, settling himself on the seat opposite from her.

"Alright, Swan?" He asks, and she is too rattled to tell him that the only reason she looked so panicked at the prospect of them kissing is that she wants their kiss to be private, shared well aware from prying eyes.

"Alright", she says and when he nods and fastens his eyes on the scenery flying by the coach, she does the same.

* * *

><p>Killian does not speak to Emma on the way to their new home because he is afraid of blurting out the question that burns on his mind and squeezes his heart in his chest, and the question is this: "Am I not even worthy of a proper kiss?"<p>

Emma will not even look at him and he feels like such a fool for allowing himself to believe they could have an amiable, if not passionate marriage, and worst of all, for thinking she could come to love him someday.

"You are mad at me", she says when they enter the ballroom in which the tables have been set for all the guests, and Killian looks at her with some surprise and a great deal of apprehension.

"If I am mad at anybody, I am mad at myself", he tells her as he leads her around the empty tables to the one on a raised dais where the two of them, Elsa and her husband and Emma's mother are supposed to sit.

If her uncle takes offense that he is not invited to sit with them, he will not dare say anything to the Duke and his new Duchess.

"Killian-"

"It is quite alright, Swan. You do not wish to kiss me, and I would rather parish than force you to do something you do not want to do", he tells her and grits his teeth, wishing he were able to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

It is not his new bride's fault that he had let himself imagine things that she had never promised to give him.

"Will you just shut up for a minute and listen to me!" Emma exclaims and he gapes at her a little, then holds out her chair and sits down next to her. "If we want this marriage to work, we need to talk to each other."

"Talk, then", he says and Emma lays her hand on his bad arm, right above the place where it abruptly ends.

"Where is your hook?"

"In my room", Killian answers but it sounds more like a question and Emma's lips quirk upward in an entirely unfairly attractive way.

She really is a vision today.

"Did you think I would mind it if you had it for our wedding?" She asks and he is left entirely speechless. "Of course you did. That is why you left it behind."

"You do not mind?"

"No, I do not. You have lost a hand Killian, and the hook makes your life easier. How could I mind an instrument that does that?" Emma asks him and leaves her hand on his arm, her fingers barely applying any pressure. "Send for your hook."

Killian does as she asks and as soon as they are left alone in the ballroom she turns sideways on her chair so that her knees press against his thigh, her free hand cupping his cheek.

She meets his eyes the way she had never done before, a mischievous smile tugging on her lips as she looks at him from underneath her eyelashes and tells him that he may kiss his bride.

For a moment he is frozen, but then he decides that he does not have anything to lose and everything to gain, so he closes the distance between them and presses his lips upon hers; she opens up to him almost immediately, her fingers sliding into his hair and her tongue playing with his, leaving him breathless and quite quickly making him painfully aroused.

It has been months since he had last lain with a woman, but he knows for a fact that no other kiss had ever made him feel this way.

When they finally pull away he feels like the world has been turned on its head and everything he had thought he would never have suddenly feels within his reach, and judging by the way Emma breathes heavily as she rests her forehead against his, same might be true for her.

Or at least that is what he chooses to believe.

"I wanted our first kiss to belong just to us and nobody else", she whispers and opens her brilliant green eyes to look at him, her thumb rubbing the back of his neck and sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. "Do you understand now?"

"Yes", he whispers back and Emma nods, then lets him go and faces the ballroom again as the first guests begin to file in.

Killian sits next to her with a dazed smile on his lips when the footman returns with his hook and he clicks it on without hesitation, Emma's pinky finger curling around it playfully when he rests his forearm on the edge of the table.

He does not think he is ever going to be able to put into words how much that simple motion of acceptance means to him, and for the moment he does not have to because the Marquess and Marchioness of Arendelle arrive at the table with the dowager Countess and Emma releases his hook, but as she does she gives him a private smile and he does not think he had ever felt more happier, or at least not since before his mother was alive.

After everybody has settled at their tables Killian gives the nod and the footmen start serving lunch, and as he watches Emma eat and talk to Elsa and even laugh at one of his jokes, he thinks that he had not done so bad by her and that despite the fact that they do not have music or dancing out of respect for her father, she still seems to be having a good time.

Under the circumstances, it is more than he should wish for, but he still vows that as soon as her mourning period is over, he will hold the grandest ball the neighbourhood has ever seen and she will dance the waltz even if he is incapable of dancing it with her.

What throws him the most about lunch, though, is the fact that Emma notices how he only eats the soup and just plays with the main course because his meat is not cut and he would rather not hold the chunk of it down with his hook in view of everyone in attendance.

"You can have some of mine", she says softly and stealthily slides half of her already cut meat onto his plate rather than cut his, and he is in such awe of her that she has to nudge his shoulder and tell him to close his mouth before a fly flies into it.

"Thank you", he tells her after the plates have already been cleared and he has finally found his voice, but Emma just shrugs and smiles, her knee pressing against his under the table in a gentle manner mindful of his war wounds.

"You are welcome", she replies and winks at him, and his heart is irrevocably lost to her.

* * *

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	11. Ten

**Thank you so much for all your feedback, and I hope you won't be disappointed that the wedding night isn't really going to be one, because neither of them is not ready for it yet. But soon, they will be.  
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><p>The guests linger in Storybrooke Manor long after luncheon, strolling in the well-manicured park and around the lake while Emma and Killian give the Marquess and Marchioness of Arendelle a tour around the house. Will and Killian take a liking to each other immediately and they walk a little way behind their better halves, watching them talk with their heads close together, occasionally laughing as Emma undoubtedly shares some of the stories of her wild youth with Elsa.<p>

"Can I show Elsa the nursery?" Emma asks over her shoulder and Killian is assaulted with a vision of Emma standing in it with her hands cupping her pregnant belly, and it stops him dead in his tracks while Will keeps walking on. "Killian?"

"Of course, love. This house is your home now as well as mine", Killian says and scratches his ear, finding it hard to meet Emma's eyes.

He knows that they are going to sleep in separate beds tonight but he is suddenly painfully aware of her presence, unable to stop thinking of the kiss she had given him before luncheon and the way her knees pressed against his leg during it.

"Are you alright, mate?" Will asks him with raised eyebrows and Killian swallows hard and nods, then asks Will about his Parliament duties to distract him before he notices his burning cheeks. "To be quite honest with you, I am tired of all the stuffy Dukes and their backwards thinking. No offense."

"My brother was the youngest Duke of the lot of them", Killian says softly and Will nods, telling him that he had met Liam on a few occasions.

"Seemed like a good bloke."

"He was", Killian says as they follow Emma and Elsa into the nursery to find them standing over Owen who is deeply asleep on the love seat with his arms wrapped around his wooden horse.

"Is that Owen?" Emma asks in a whisper and comes to stand next to Killian while Elsa slips her arm into Will's and steers him toward the door and down the hallway.

"It is", Killian says and takes a blanket from the back of a rocking chair, carefully spreading it over the sleeping child. "He likes spending time here."

"And you do too?"

Killian shrugs and motions with his head for Emma to follow him into the next room where all his old toys are safely stored in closets and where there are plush child-sized armchairs and a big couch where his parents used to sit while he and Liam played.

"How is your leg?" Emma asks and sits down next to him, and he would rather have his teeth pulled than discuss his injuries with her but she is his wife and she deserves an honest answer to such an honest question.

"Could be better", he says and resists the urge to rub his knee with his hand. "Did you enjoy yourself today, love?"

"I feel a little guilty admitting this, but I actually did", Emma tells him and looks around the room, smiling when she notices a chess set on a shelf against the far wall. "Do you still play?"

"Up for a rematch, Swan?" He asks and she rolls her eyes at him, then walks across the room and brings the chessboard carefully over and sets it on the table in front of the couch.

"I am going to beat you", she tells him and makes the first two moves, impatiently waving her hand in the air when he hesitates.

"Perhaps you will", he says and makes his move, watching her brow furrow as she studies the chessboard. "You never did when we were children."

"I was six!" Emma exclaims and smiles when he chuckles at her reaction.

"You were bloody brilliant for your age", he tells her and she ducks her head before she makes her next move.

"You were not much older than me", she says and raises her eyebrow when he makes his move immediately after hers. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Quite sure."

"I should warn you that I have played countless games with my…", Emma trails off and her cheerful mood falters, her hand trembling when she moves her knight.

Killian wants to take her in his arms and hold her close, wants to offer her the comfort of his embrace but he is so afraid of frightening her off and making things weird between them that he merely lies his hand on the centre of her back and keeps it there while she breathes slowly and evenly, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

She does not cry and he admires her for such strength.

"How did you bear it?" She asks so softly he almost misses it and then turns her head to look at him with eyes bright from unshed tears. "First your mother, then your father, and finally Liam… Sometimes I feel like I am going to fall apart because my papa is not here anymore."

"After my mother died, I felt quite lost, but then father sent me to boarding school and I was too busy with my studies to have time to dwell on my pain", Killian tells her and moves his hand in slow circles over her back. "After my father passed I came home only long enough to attend the funeral and convince Liam to pay for my commission, and then I was off on a ship… Everything is much simpler when you are sailing the seas."

Emma nods faintly and they sit quietly side by side until she straightens and points to the chessboard, asking him to make his move.

"Are you trying to help me win?" She asks him sharply and he assesses his options a little more carefully this time, then shrugs and tells her that he is rusty and that she has to forgive him if he is not as impressive a player as he seemed to her when they were young.

Emma does not seem to believe him and Killian smiles to himself, but before he can try to convince her that he is always for playing fair Owen tiptoes into the room and pulls his attention away from his wife.

The word startles him, and warms him up inside at the same time.

* * *

><p>"Who is that?" A baby voice asks and Emma looks up from the chessboard to find Owen crossing the room and coming to stand next to where Killian is sitting.<p>

"It is bad form to call a lady "that"", Killian admonishes gently and Emma watches in surprise as he clicks off his hook and holds it out for her. "Would you put this somewhere safe, love?"

Emma takes the hook and Killian wraps his arm around Owen and sits him on his lap, then winks at Emma and does the introductions.

"Lady Emma Swan, may I present Mr. Owen Humbert?"

"How do you do?" Emma asks and Owen beams at her and takes her offered hand, giggling when Killian tells him that he is supposed to kiss it.

"You kiss it!" Owen exclaims and Killian's laugh must be the most beautiful sound in the world.

"We shall work on that, then", Killian says and Emma feels a pang of longing deep in her stomach, but she ignores it when Owen asks her how long is she staying.

"I am staying forever", Emma tells him and smiles at Killian. "You see, Killian and I had gotten married today."

"But nobody told me!" Owen says and looks accusingly at Killian.

"I am sorry, lad. It did not occur to me that you would wish to attend our wedding."

"Papa told me today that I am forbidden from running around the house from now on. Is that because of Emma?" Owen asks and the tips of Killian's ears go red, which Emma recalls is a sure sign of anger, but he reigns in his temper and tells Owen that he will talk to his papa and that he can play wherever he likes.

He gives Emma an apologetic look over Owen's head and there is a clear question written in his eyes that endears him to her even further.

"Killian and I used to run through all the rooms when we were a little bit older than you, and I do not see a reason why you should not", Emma tells Owen and his face lights up with relief.

"What game is that?" Owen asks a moment later and leans forward, Killian's arm tightening around him so he does not fall nose first into the chess pieces.

"It is called chess", Emma tells him and makes her next move, giving Killian a challenging look in response to which Killian lifts his eyebrow and takes her rook. "Oh I should have seen that coming!"

Killian chuckles and Emma rests her elbows on her knees, determined to win this game and refusing to let herself get distracted with his blue eyes and the way he handles the child that other noblemen would not even look at, much less endeavour to entertain and even teach things.

Ten minutes later it is checkmate and Owen whispers in Killian's ear loud enough for Emma to her that he is supposed to let his wife win, otherwise she could think he does not love her.

"And we would not want that, would we?" Killian asks him with an easy smile and ruffles his hair before setting him on his feet and telling him that it will be dinner soon and that he should go wash up so that Mrs. Simms does not have to wait for him.

"See you tomorrow!" Owen says and runs out of the room, both Emma and Killian gazing fondly after him.

They walk back downstairs to find that Emma's mother had seen the last of the guests off and she was just about to go look for the two of them.

"Will you stay for dinner, Mama?"

"I am exhausted", Lady Misthaven says and hugs her daughter, then kisses Killian's cheek and tells him to take good care of Emma.

"We are neighbours. You will see me every day", Emma tells her and she suddenly feels stupidly emotional.

"Do not worry about Emma, my lady", Killian says with a solemn bow and Emma's mother marches out to the waiting coach that will convey her back home.

"I cannot believe Elsa did not come to say goodbye", Emma grumbles and suddenly feels strangely apprehensive.

"Arendelle is just half an hour away by coach. You can visit her as early as tomorrow", Killian says and escorts her to the room that is going to be hers for the rest of her life so that she can change for dinner. "This is for you."

He reaches into his inside coat pocket and takes out a slim box that contains a thin silver bracelet with a single precious stone hanging from it.

"Killian… It is so beautiful!"

"Shall we put it on?" He asks and Emma hands him one end of the bracelet, puts her wrist through the loop and brings the clasp to him so that he can put the last hoop through it.

She knows now why he had chosen a bracelet and not a necklace, and she is glad he did because she would rather have him putting it on than her maid.

"Thank you", Emma says and he hesitates for a brief moment, then gives her a chaste, sweet kiss that somehow shakes her up more than the one they had shared at their table, and she stands leaning against the doorway of her room and watches him limp away until he rounds the corner and disappears from sight.

They spend dinner and a few hours afterwards reminiscing about old times and comparing memories about some of the events from their childhood, and when the time comes to go to bed Killian walks with her to her room again and kisses her a little more firmly than before, his good arm wrapping around her waist while his hook stays well away from her body.

"Good night, Swan", he says and Emma lets her hands slide from his shoulders, bids him good night as well and goes into her bedchamber, then presses her cheek against the door and listens as he enters his own room one door down from hers.

Emma's maid helps her undress once more and she imagines that Kristoff is doing the same for Killian which is confirmed a few minutes later when Killian's door opens and closes once more.

A little while later Emma is standing in her new bedroom wearing a pale blue sleeping gown and intently staring at the door connecting her room to Killian's, her stomach tied into knots because they have not discussed this and she does not know what to expect.

She is not even sure what she wants to happen next, but she figures that there is no point in pacing the floor in anticipation because Killian will either come to her or he will not, so she lies down in her big, comfortable bed and pulls the covers up to her nose, her eyes unable to leave the door.

As her eyelids start drooping, she thinks for a second that the knob is turning but the door remains closed, and eventually Emma gives up waiting, snuffs out the light and lies in darkness trying to gauge her own reaction to Killian staying away from her on their wedding night.

By the time she falls asleep, she is still not sure if she is relieved or offended.

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	12. Eleven

**I know I keep saying how much your reviews mean to me, but they brighten up my days and make me write even when I don't feel like it, so thank you so very, very much. Enjoy, and see you in two days for the update!  
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><p>Killian wakes up because he had been whimpering in his sleep and he presses his face against the pillow in order to muffle the sound because he is mortally afraid that Emma would hear him and come charging through the door between their rooms.<p>

He is in too much pain to be able to convince her that she had just imagined his cries, and he does not want her to see just how weak and pathetic he really is.

And so he lies there with closed eyes, his fingers massaging his stump until his brain finally gets the message that the hand that is no longer there is not in fact on fire.

The door stays closed and eventually Killian dozes off again, then wakes with a start what feels like a few moments later only to realize that it is almost mid-morning.

Kristoff teases him gently for sleeping in, but Killian is not in the mood and he descends to breakfast as quickly as he is able to find that Emma had already eaten and gone for a walk across the field to visit her mother.

He is a little disappointed that she had not waited to at least ask him if he wants to come with her, but he supposes his wife is a free-spirited lass and he should just get used to it.

He finds that he is still not used to the word wife and the fact that it is attached to a girl he used to consider his best friend.

After a hearty breakfast Killian goes in search of Mr. Humbert, finally ready to face the business side of being a Duke and to show Emma that although he cannot captain a ship or sail the seas any longer, he can at least command his numerous properties.

Killian knocks on the door of Graham's study and enters without waiting for an answer, startling his steward in the process and making him drop his quell to the floor.

"Your Grace!" Graham exclaims and jumps to his feet, hastily offering Killian his chair because there is nowhere else to sit in an overcrowded room. "Is everything alright?"

"You tell me", Killian says and waves away Graham's offer, inviting him to sit back down and asking him if he would prefer to move to the main study.

"You mean your study?"

"You are my steward, are you not? I can take care of my business in the library if need be; there is really no need for you to be spending your days in this cluttered space", Killian says and looks pointedly at all the ledgers littering the floor and every other available surface.

"Your brother installed me here", Graham says sheepishly and Killian chuckles because Liam had always been a bit of a pompous ass.

"And now I insist you move to the library. I will send Kristoff to help you move everything and we shall meet there in an hour; it is time you showed me the books", Killian says and Graham looks pleased, thanking him for coming to inform him about the move in person.

"I do not consider myself to be above you or my valet of anybody else who works and lives in this house", Killian tells him and piles the closest pile of ledgers upon his arm, smiling to himself as Graham watches him go with a stunned expression.

Since Killian had been idle for far too long, now he has a whole mountain of unopened mail that has been waiting for him in the library to get through while Kristoff and Graham transfer all the books from the study, and then Killian and his steward sit side by side behind the big desk and go over some of them.

It is quickly clear that Graham is a competent steward, but he simply does not have the time to go visiting the tenants, which Killian remembers his father doing often and with great joy, listening to their complains and helping all that he could while praising the ones who did well.

"We shall ride out next week so I can meet most of the ones close by, and once that is accomplished I shall relieve you of that duty for good."

"Very well, your Grace", Graham says, still looking a little suspicious, as if he is not quite sure that all this is not some elaborate trap that would reveal him as a bad steward.

"Relax, Graham", Killian claps him on the shoulder and then checks his pocket watch, surprised that it is already almost time for lunch.

He hopes Emma is back but when he goes in search for her, it turns out that it is not so.

Noon comes and goes and Killian begins wondering if his new bride has changed her mind and decided to abandon him less than a day into their marriage, but Mary convinces him that she is still unpacking her mistress' things and that she did not say anything about leaving.

Killian is slightly embarrassed for his overreaction so he escapes to the stables, saddles Cesar and sets out toward the Misthaven property, thinking he would meet Emma on her way back and escort her home, but he reaches the border and Emma is still nowhere to be seen.

His mild worry is rapidly turning into pure panic, and he urges his horse into a gallop, somehow managing not to think of all the possible reasons for her being away for so long and focusing only on getting to her mother's house as quickly as possible.

Hoping that he had not lost his wife before she was even fully his.

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><p>Emma spends the entire morning with her mother, trying to cheer her up because it is obvious that she feels abandoned in a big empty house even though she is trying to hide it from her daughter.<p>

"Would you like to live with Killian and me?"

"Absolutely not!" Emma's mother exclaims, her eyes wide as she shakes her head. "I love this house and the very thought of leaving makes me feel unwell.

"Alright, alright, but Mama, if you change your mind, you can come. I am sure Killian would not mind", Emma says and catches herself smiling dreamily when she remembers the way he had been with Owen yesterday and how he had kissed her goodnight before they went to bed.

Or, rather, their separate beds.

"You still have him as wrapped around your finger as you had when you were children, I see", Lady Misthaven says and Emma frowns in confusion because she was always under the impression that it was the other way around.

"Hardly."

"Oh Emma. If you could have seen the way he was looking at you during lunch when you were talking to Elsa, you would not doubt it."

"He thought he would never marry", Emma says more to herself than to her mother, and she is still stunned that he had confined such a thing to her. "I am sad that he was being so pessimistic but if he had not, we would both be destitute now."

"You have known that boy almost your entire life and once upon a time you knew him better than anybody else."

"What are you trying to say?"

"He was not pessimistic, Emma, just realistic."

"I cannot believe that nobody would want him just because he has a hook for a hand and his leg is not working as it should. He is a war hero and the kindest man I know and frankly the most handsome one too, so- Oh why are you smiling like that, Mama?"

"Discussing it is moot, is it not? He has found somebody who wants him after all", Lady Misthaven says and Emma huffs even though her mother is quite right.

The last few days were quite an eye-opener for Emma, but she will be damned if she admits feeling anything beyond platonic love for her husband.

And speaking of her husband, she should really get back to him.

Said husband looks like he is at the end of his rope when she comes through the garden door just as he is tethering his horse to a nearby tree, then sort of leans against its flank when he sees her.

"I am so sorry", she tells him quickly and rushes to his side, hovering next to him while he just looks at her and takes such deep breaths that his chest expands with each of them. "Mama was a little under the weather and I lost track of time."

"I thought…", he trails off and shakes his head, his hand stroking Cesar's flank as if by soothing his horse he is also going to soothe himself.

"Killian, I am alright", Emma tells him because she can tell what this is about, and she feels awful for disturbing him so even if the fact that he cares so much about her warms her heart. "I am not going to leave you."

He looks like he might have another episode any second now and she comes closer, her right hand cupping his cheek and her left covering his hand, their fingers entwining together while she gazes up into his blue, blue eyes and rises on her tiptoes so that she can kiss his cheek.

The sigh that escapes him prompts her to kiss him firmer, her lips pressing against his until he responds, his tongue slipping inside her mouth and sliding against her teeth so skilfully she simply melts against him, the feeling of his firm chest against her softness making blood rush into her head and liquid heat pool low in her belly.

"That was quite an apology, Swan", he says a little breathlessly as they remain standing with their foreheads pressed together, her hand resting on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of the hand he is still holding.

"I did not wish to worry you."

"I know. I do not want to suffocate you", he says and she shakes her head, telling him that he is not doing any such thing. "Shall we walk back, then? I have worked up quite an appetite."

"I would rather ride", Emma tells him and he picks her up easily, his hand and brace on her waist as he lifts her into the saddle.

He hands her the reins and looks at her questioningly when she does not urge Cesar to move, and she is quite impressed with the fact that he is prepared to walk all the way home beside her despite his bad leg.

"I meant both of us riding", she says and scoots as far forward as she can, belatedly realizing that Killian probably cannot mount from this side.

"Gentlemen and ladies do not ride the same horse over open countryside", he says stiffly, confirming her suspicions and Emma feels a brief pang of annoyance swiftly followed with guilt because she would probably be even pricklier under the same circumstances.

"Maybe not, but when have we ever cared much about propriety?" She asks him, her words a clear challenge she knows he will not want to pass up on, and she is rewarded with a quick smile before he walks around the horse and pulls himself up in the saddle behind her.

"You should at least surrender the reins, love", he says, his voice like a caress, his body pressing close against hers.

His hand is resting on the saddle horn and Emma leans against his arm, tilting her head to meet his sky-filled gaze and telling him that she will not.

"I was a Captain once, Swan. I am good at issuing orders, not following them", he says and she reaches for his hand, placing it on her waist.

"Today I am your Captain", Emma says and relaxes against him, turning her head forward and signalling Cesar to start when Killian does not complain. "You can lay your arm across my legs."

"And risk tearing your dress with my hook? I would rather not", Killian says and Emma experiences sudden shortness of breath because his voice is strained and something hard and warm is pressing against her derriere, enticing her and making her feel as if her skin is suddenly too tight for her body.

She had been aware of him physically from the moment she had laid eyes on him in her parents' drawing room last month but they have never been so tightly pressed together before without a way for her to pull away; she supposes she could halt the horse and slide down to the ground, claiming that she wants to walk after all, but she absolutely does not want him to know just how much he affects her too.

"It was nice of you to come for me", Emma says softly, telling herself that there is no need to be so surprised that Killian is making her feel things stronger than Neal ever had.

"You used to make me promise that I would not go anywhere without you", Killian says and she blinks in surprise because she had forgotten that, but it is all coming back to her now.

"I cried for hours when my father came to tell me that you had gone."

"My father would not let me run over to say goodbye", Killian says and prompts Cesar into a gallop because they are nearing the hedge and he obviously has no intention of going around.

Emma swallows a sudden lump in her throat and prepares for the jump, her vision blurry when they sail over the hedge and land safely on the other side.

"Promise me you will not go anywhere without me."

"I promise, Swan", he says, his lips close to her ear, and she looks down to find his hook around the saddle horn and his arm wrapped around her waist so that she is held securely against him.

Her dress survives the ride without a single tear.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	13. Twelve

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews and have a little more smooching and the newlyweds getting closer, but not as close as they will be next chapter.  
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><p>Two weeks pass and Emma only sees Killian during meals and in the evening because he is making the rounds with Mr. Humbert, visiting the tenants and getting to know them and the work they are doing. Emma is familiar with most of them, but she has Elsa, her mother, and more often than not little Owen to keep her company so she declines Killian's offer to go with him and his steward even if she misses him more than she had imagined possible.<p>

Still, no matter where her husband goes, he always comes back to have lunch and dinner with her and she finds in incredibly endearing, laughing as he tells her all the latest gossip; he looks perfectly content with his new-found place in the neighbourhood and Emma is more than a little relieved that the country people are more accepting of him than the ton was.

They are still sleeping in their respective rooms but sometimes Emma wakes up in the middle of the night thinking that she had heard whimpering coming from Killian's room, and a few times she even comes to stand next to the door connecting their bedchambers, but by the time she reaches it the house is quiet again and she always returns to her bed feeling a little cowardly for not trying to turn the knob to check on her husband.

On Saturday morning Emma comes to the dining room and finds Killian with the newspapers opened on the table in front of him, his brows drawn in a scowl as he reads the news from various European battlefields.

"Good morning", she says and he looks up with a fragile smile, her own faltering because there are dark circles under his eyes and she is finally completely sure that the sounds of distress she keeps hearing are not a figment of her imagination.

"Morning, love", he says and folds the newspapers deftly, then sets them aside and signals the footman to serve them breakfast.

"Are you going to take today off?" Emma asks and he seems a little surprised by the abruptness of her question but he recovers quickly and tells her that indeed he is. "I was thinking that we could go to the lake, maybe row to the island."

Killian does not look too enthusiastic and Emma feels her heart turn over, but it makes her even more determined to help him, and she knows she cannot do that if he does not talk to her.

"We can ask Mrs. Simms to pack us lunch and have a picnic. It will be just like when we were children!" Emma says as enthusiastically as she can and flutters her eyelashes a little, remembering that it always used to work on him.

"But we are not children anymore, Swan", he says and she is suddenly very aware of the fact that they have not kissed since the day they rode together, and it was not for lack of interest on either side; the opportunity just did not present itself.

"I know, but we always had fun on our adventures. Maybe it is time we remembered that", Emma tells him and lays her hand over his, her thumb caressing his knuckles as he mulls over her invitation. "Please, Killy."

"Oh you did not!" He exclaims and she laughs, remembering how he used to get upset when she called him that, and realizing that somehow her hand is in his and that he does not seem so bothered with the nickname anymore.

"I would love to take you to the island, Swan, but you are forgetting on little thing."

"What thing?"

"I cannot row one-handed", he says and she wants to shake him for being so dense, but she manages to control her temper and tells him that she had not forgotten.

"Lucky for you, I am more than willing to lend a hand", she tells him and gives him a warning look when he opens his mouth to argue.

"If the lady insists", he says and she grins, then slides her hand up his arm and cups his cheek.

"Thank you", she tells him softly and gives him a brief, chaste kiss before she leaves the table and goes to the kitchen to select the food they are going to take with them.

Twenty minutes later they are walking through the garden, Killian carrying the picnic basket while Emma holds the blanket over her arm, trying not to lengthen her steps the way she wants to because Killian should not have to struggle just because she is excited.

The boat house door is stuck but Killian's hook comes in handy and before long he is standing in a boat that seemed like a ship when they were young, but now that they are all grown, it looks more like a bathtub.

"What is the matter, love? You look almost… frightened", Killian says and wiggles his eyebrows at her as he holds out his hand, and Emma rolls her eyes, lets him hand her in and carefully sits down facing him.

"I am not afraid of a little boat."

"As I recall, you were always scared of getting wet", he says playfully and waits for her to take the oar, matching his movements to hers and smiling to himself all the way to the island.

Emma does not say anything, marvelling at how easy it is to stay in sync with him and watching his powerful shoulders move as his oar slices the water with such precision and economy of movements that she is left feeling entirely unfit for the task.

"Try not to dig it in so deeply, love", he tells her and she blushes because apparently he had been watching her too, his eyes dancing with mirth when she meets his blue gaze.

The island on the lake is not really an island, but there is a copse of trees that hides the far side of it from the house, so Emma leads the way there and they settle on the blanket, Killian sitting against a tree and Emma stretching out on her back beside him.

"I had almost forgotten how beautiful it is out here", she says dreamily and gazes up at the canopy of branches, then tilts her head back to look at Killian and catches him studying her face. "What?"

"You are beautiful."

"Why thank you, your Grace", Emma says coyly, happiness rushing through her veins at his sincere compliment.

"I have missed you this past week", he tells her and the mood changes quickly and irrevocably, her pulse speeding up at the urgency in his tone.

"I missed you", she tells him because she does not want to play games, she does not want to play an ice princess and pretend that he does not mean as much to her as he does.

"I never thought I would find something I could miss more than the sea", he tells her wistfully and Emma traces the fine line of his jaw with her eyes and wishes she had remained sitting so that she could reach out and touch it with her fingers.

"It is not so far from here… only a few hours by coach", Emma says softly and he looks away into the distance as if he could see the shimmering blue if he tries hard enough.

"Maybe it would be more accurate to say that I miss sailing the sea."

"You miss your ship."

"I do, but not as much as I did a month ago", he tells her and tilts his head down to look at her, his hand moving from his lap slowly, as if he is afraid of scaring her or wants to give her plenty of time to move away.

Emma stays exactly where she is and closes her eyes when he runs the backs of his fingers over her cheek, caressing her skin with infinite care and making her heart grow twice its size even from that simple touch.

She wants to ask him about what transpires after midnight, wants to hear about the nightmares he is undoubtedly having and the pain that he endures so stoically, but she does not want to ruin the moment, does not want to take away the peace he seemed to have found on this little island, sitting by her side.

* * *

><p>Killian traces his wife's cheek with his finger, then moves it up her nose and smiles when she wrinkles it, relaxing again when he tangles his fingers in her golden locks, ever-careful not to catch them on his signet ring. He loves it when she wears her hair down like this, sunlight playing in her shiny hair, the softness of it feeling so good on his skin.<p>

"That feels nice", she says and he feels like pinching himself the way he does every morning when she comes into the dining room because he still finds it hard to believe that his luck could turn so drastically.

And yet, it did.

"You were always like a kitten", he tells her and her lips stretch into a slow smile that simply takes his breath away.

"Only with you. I was a wild cat with everybody else, just ask my old governess", Emma says and rolls on her side, her face pressing against his hip. "You are making me sleepy."

He feels anything but tired, and he finds himself in a particularly bold mood, so he scoots down lower so that they are lying on the blanket facing each other, their heads resting on their arms.

Emma's long eyelashes lift slowly and she looks at him with a secret smile, her hand reaching for his bad arm and boldly laying it on her waist.

"This is even nicer", she says and he wonders briefly if she had planned this from the beginning, but then she is kissing him and his thoughts scatter, only the feelings remaining.

Emma's lips are soft but firm, her tongue slipping into his mouth and playfully tangling with his, her curves pressing into Killian's body and making him ache for more so acutely he groans and wraps his arms tightly around her, seeking additional contact.

For a moment he forgets about all his shortcomings and just loses himself in her, in her touch and the smell of her hair, in the way she tastes and all the little moans that escape her when he deepens the kiss, her slender arms holding him with surprising strength.

They kiss, time passes and even when they come up for occasional air they do not separate entirely, foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling, her eyes closed the entire time.

He thinks he might have loved her even when they were children, only he was too young and innocent to understand what he was feeling.

He is not either young or innocent anymore; eight-and-twenty years of age does not match the amount of life experience he has had, but being with her like this makes him feel like anything is possible, and even hope that the future does not have to be as painful as his past had been.

"That is quite a formidable scowl", Emma says and kisses his chin, effectively pulling him out of his reverie.

"Apologies, love", he murmurs and lifts his head to look at her properly, and he is ridiculously proud of her kiss-swollen lips and dazed expression. "We seem to have forgotten to eat."

"I did not mind", Emma says with a dreamy smile and traces the scar on his cheek with her thumb, her smile prompting his.

"I am glad to hear that", he tells her and kisses her gentler this time, slow and deep and as if they have all the time in the world even though he would do nothing rather than hike her dress up and tear through her undergarments with his hook until she is naked and exposed to his throbbing flesh.

But he loves her, so he does no such thing.

They spend the afternoon kissing and talking among bites of Mrs. Simms' delicious food and she looks so disappointed when he tells her that they should return before the night falls.

"We can come here again tomorrow, if you would like that", he says but her half-hearted shrug lets him know that it is not being on this island she craves.

It appears that his wife just wants them to be as close as they have been today.

"You act different when we are not alone out in the countryside", she tells him and he does not even bother to object because he knows it is the truth.

He does not feel worthy of her when they are among other people, when everybody from the lowest servant to the oldest groom is whole where he is not.

But he cannot tell her that.

It would hurt too much to see pity in her eyes.

"I am sorry, love. I wish I could give you all that you deserve", he says and Emma looks like she might have something to say about that, but she decides not to and simply climbs to her feet, quickly packing everything back into the picnic basket and folding the blanket once he levers himself up.

His leg is numb but he manages to get into the boat without embarrassing himself and they row back in echoing silence, her eyes carefully averted from his.

Emma excuses herself from dinner and Killian sends Kristoff away, putting on his night clothes on his own and standing next to the door connecting his room to Emma's for good ten minutes before he admits defeat and settles under the covers alone.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	14. Thirteen

**There are twelve chapters left after this one, so although there is some progress made, the wedding night is still not in the cards, but I assure you it will happen sometime within the next five chapters... Maybe even twice. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!  
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><p>Killian is dreaming about the battle again, his heart hammering in his chest and the smell of gunpowder filling his nose along with the awful stench of blood and burnt flesh.<p>

His entire left side feels like it is on fire, but he cannot seem to move to extinguish the flames, helpless to do anything but suffer in silence, even though he does not know why is it so important that he remains quiet.

"Killian, please wake up", somebody says and the fog lifts, his body jerking awake, but he is too tangled up in sheets to be able to free himself from the restricting cocoon.

Emma is sitting on his bed wearing nothing but a white nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulders like a golden waterfall, his fingers twitching with the sudden urge to touch it.

She had lit a lamp by his bed and her eyes look beautifully green even in the dim lighting, and he is finally wide awake, his heart picking up speed again because she should not be here.

He does not want her to see him like this.

"It happens every night, does it not?" Emma asks him in an unbearably gentle voice, the one he had only heard her use once and that was when Owen had a chill and she held him in her arms, rocking him and telling him that soon he will feel better.

"Go back to sleep, Swan", Killian says, relieved beyond measure when he discovers that his left arm is still beneath the covers, his stump hidden from her eyes.

"I am your wife, Killian, not a servant you can easily dismiss", Emma tells him sharply and he cannot help the corner of his mouth twitching up; his Swan is a passionate lass and more than a welcome distraction after the horror of his nightmare, but the last thing he wants is discuss it with her.

Or anybody else, for that matter.

"Apologies, my lady. It was not my intention to offend you, but I am a poor company at the moment", he tells her, resisting the urge to rub his stump with his fingers in hope of easing the ache that always gets worse on the heels on his nightmares.

"You need to talk about it if you ever want to have a peaceful night", Emma tells him and gets her feet on the bed, quickly pulling the hem of her nightgown down over them.

"Love, I beg of you, go back to your room. You are going to catch your death if you remain here", he tells her but she just shakes her head and crosses her arms in front of her chest, regarding him stubbornly as he tries not to let his eyes wander over the silhouette of her body.

He does not have as much success as a gentleman that he considers himself to be should.

"If you do not wish me to catch a chill you can either let me under the covers or carry me back to my room."

"The way I did when I was a ruffian and you a princess?" He asks and lifts the covers on his good side, his entire body coming to life when she rolls over him and into the warm shelter of blankets.

"Oh this is much better", Emma says and rests her weight on her elbow, her hair spilling over her shoulder and pooling on his chest. "Now tell me about the nightmares."

"Still as bossy as ever, are we, love?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and her eyes narrow in warning.

"I know what you are doing."

"I am not doing anything aside from lying in bed next to my wife."

"Oh you are insufferable!" Emma exclaims and dramatically plops down next to him, staring at the canopy above their heads with a fierce scowl.

She is absolutely magnificent and he is anything but, so he does not want to reveal more of his weaknesses than he already has.

"I am sorry, Emma", he says and she turns her head to look at him, her eyes softening as she presses herself against his side and wraps her arm around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder and her silky hair tickling his neck.

"You do not have to be sorry. I understand that it is hard to talk about what happened to you, but someday you are going to. Someday you will tell me everything and you will feel lighter for doing so", she tells him with such conviction that he is tempted to believe her even though he knows himself well.

He is not strong enough to purposely relive that horrible day out on the sea that had cost him so dearly.

"I can be patient", Emma adds softly and presses a kiss to the opening of his shirt, prompting a tightening in his groin that makes him bite his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning.

"I do not recall you ever were before", he teases gently and smiles down at her when she tilts her head back to glare at him.

"Maybe not. But I intend to keep asking you until you relent and tell me", Emma says and wraps her arm around his, their fingers entwining as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Is that a promise?"

"Promise", she murmurs, her breathing evening out until she is fast asleep, her hand still holding hers.

He knows a moment of panic because he will not be able to get up without waking her, but then he remembers how restlessly she had slept when she was small, and knows that by morning she is probably going to be on the other side of bed, leaving him plenty of room to get up and get dressed before she can see anything he does not wish her to see.

Killian buries his nose in Emma's hair and closes his eyes, hoping that the nightmares are done with him for tonight.

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><p>Emma wakes up abruptly, sitting up in bed and looking around the room in search of Killian.<p>

"Good morning, love", he says and gives her an amused smile when she runs her fingers through the mess that is her hair; she is not even surprised that he is already dressed, sitting in an armchair across the room, his hand on the armrest and his hook resting on his thigh.

"You are so unfair."

"Am I?"

"Yes, Killian, you are, and you know it", she tells him and struggles to get herself from under the blankets.

Killian looks like he might come to help her but she stops him with a look and manages to get her legs out, shivering a little when she stands up but keeping her nose in the air as she marches back to her room.

"You do not have to wait on me for breakfast. I am not hungry", she says without turning around and slams the door closed, muttering to herself about proud, stubborn men who are so stupid despite all their studies and life experience.

Emma throws herself down on her bed face first and hugs her pillow to her chest, but despite her annoyance she cannot help smiling when she inhales Killian's scent on her sleeve and remembers how wonderful it was to fall asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his.

Her husband is difficult and it will take a lot of patience she does not have to climb his walls, but Emma is willing to learn because being with him makes her happy and she wants him to feel the same, wants him to be able to tell her everything like he used to do when they were children.

She ends up dozing a while longer and by the time Mary helps her dress the dining room is empty, Killian and Graham already gone.

After breakfast, Emma goes in search of Owen and finds him in the library, sitting in Killian's usual chair and turning the pages of a book she had listened Killian read to him on a few occasions even though she was supposed to be reading her own stories.

"Hello, darling. What are you doing?"

"I want to see what happens next in the book", Owen says, his shoulders slumped and his feet dancing in the air impatiently. "Killian is always busy."

"He has to make sure all the tenants are alright", Emma tells him and picks him up so that she can sit and hold him on her lap. "I could read you the book if you want."

"Oh yes please, Emma, please", he says and gives her the book, looking up at her with an adorable smile as she opens it where Killian had marked it and begins reading.

The book is familiar to her and she finds her thoughts drifting, thinking how she had never imagined her marriage to be like this; she thought she would be increasing within the first month and spend every night sleeping in her husband's arms, and here she is, a month after she and Killian had exchanged their vows, and they had only slept together last night.

And sleeping was all they had done.

"Emma, you stopped reading!" Owen says and pokes her hand impatiently, so Emma returns her attention to the book, pushing her thoughts away.

Her marriage is far from perfect, but she knows it is much better than an average marriage of convenience is, and she sees no reason why it could not get better with time.

Killian will come around eventually and realize that he does not have to hide from her.

As the clock strikes eleven the door of the library opens and Jefferson strolls in as if he owns the place, a flustered Leroy coming in after him.

"I do beg your pardon, mistress. Lord Nolan pushed his way past me before I was able to announce him properly", the butler says and scowls at the carpet because he does not dare to scowl at their guest.

"It is quite alright, Leroy", Emma says because it is not the poor man's fault that her cousin is so rude. "Please have the tea sent up."

Leroy does not seem happy to be dismissed but he takes his leave anyway and Emma looks at Jefferson with raised eyebrows.

"What brings you here?"

"Is that the welcome your dear cousin deserves?"

"You have never been my dear anything, Jeff."

"I suppose not. You were too busy running around with Jones and his brother and then mourning their absence."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Emma asks impatiently and hugs Owen closer, praying that her cousin does not make some careless comment that would hurt the child.

"And who do we have here? Have you already learned that your dear husband is not only handless but was also wounded in an unfortunate place that prevents him from doing his marital duty, and decided to adopt this grubby child?" Jefferson asks and Emma is torn between clapping her hands over Owen's ears and planting Jefferson another facer.

"If you have come to speak ill about my husband, you can take yourself off right now", Emma tells him through clenched teeth and absentmindedly rubs her hand up and down Owen's arm.

"So I was right. Your marriage is just a farce and soon everybody is going to know it", Jefferson says and Emma wants to at least kick him in the shin but she cannot do it with Owen there, so she stands up as regally as she can and orders Jefferson out of her house.

"You heard my wife. Leave right now and do not come back if you do not wish to be thrown out like the garbage you are", Killian says from the doorway and Emma meets his eyes without hesitation, wondering how much he had heard and if he intends to do anything that would prove Jefferson wrong.

She does not doubt that her cousin is lying because she had felt Killian's hardness enough times to know that everything needed for marital bliss is completely intact.

"And what are you going to do if I decide to stay a while longer?" Jefferson asks and Killian moves faster than Emma had seen him do since he came back from the war, forces Jefferson's arm behind his back and turns him toward the doorway where Leroy and Kristoff are waiting with equally terrifying stares.

Emma does not hear what is it that Killian whispers next to Jefferson's ear but whatever it is, it makes her cousin go pale before Killian gives him a shove into Kristoff's waiting arms and slams the door after him.

"Are you alright?" Killian asks after a moment, slowly turning around and limping to her side, his hand cupping her cheek while he smiles reassuringly at Owen who has not spoken a word since Jefferson's arrival.

"Who was that bad man?" Owen asks and reaches for Killian, who takes him from Emma's arms and murmurs reassurances until the little boy is smiling again.

"He will not bother us again", Killian says firmly and wraps his hooked arm around Emma's waist, pulling her close and pressing a kiss against her temple.

It is the first time he has reached for her with his bad arm, and Emma considers it a battle won.

The war is still a long way from being over.

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	15. Fourteen

**Have some more angst, and get ready for the next chapter because the wedding night might finally be in the cards for Emma and Killian. Enjoy, and thank you for all your wonderful feedback!  
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><p>For the first time in what feels like forever Killian sleeps the whole night through, and he is almost disappointed because his wife did not have an excuse to come to him and torment him with her presence in his bed.<p>

Emma had looked pale after her cousin's visit yesterday so Killian had stayed home after lunch, walking with her down familiar paths and trying his best to make her smile, her expression had remained worried and she could scarcely meet his gaze.

Killian had come too late to hear everything Jefferson had said to her, but he heard the part about their marriage being a farce and as Emma glides into the dining room with dark circles under his eyes he regrets not applying his fist to Jefferson's chin when he had the chance.

"Are you alright, love?" Killian asks as Emma sits down on his right side, his hand covering hers and bringing it up so that he can kiss her knuckles.

"It seems that I sleep better in your bed than my own", she answers and meets his eyes boldly, then slips her hand from his and starts spreading butter on her toast. "Or maybe it is just that I sleep better next to you."

"Swan, I...", he starts, then trails off and drums his fingers on the table, hunting for words because it is clear that Emma is becoming impatient with him for not fulfilling his marital duties.

Perhaps Jefferson had even brought it up, mocked her for marrying such a broken shell of a man who is taking so long to give her what every woman needs, and she is finally done waiting for him to gather enough courage to reveal himself fully to her.

"If you had come to my bed, I would not have objected to your presence there", he says, giving her the best he can for now, and her eyes flash like green flame when she looks at him.

"How very magnanimous of you", she says and throws her napkin down on the table. "I knew this was a union of convenience when I married you, but I had hoped that you would at least visit my bed until I was with child. It is clear to me now that you do not have any intention of ever making love to me, so no, I will not come to your bed and watch you hide from me and force you to wake before dawn so you can get dressed before I can see you exposed."

"Swan, it is not-"

"It is not what? You have known me forever and I had expected that you would be able to make a difference between me and the ton ladies who swoon at the sight of any kind of scar, but obviously I was mistaken. I gave you plenty of time to get over yourself but I guess my hope that you would come to trust me was misplaced. You will never trust me enough to show me your wounds and I guess I should better get used to sleeping alone."

And with that said, Emma pushes her chair back and runs from the room, leaving Killian staring at the omelette on his plate, completely stunned by her outburst.

When he had proposed marriage to her, he had expected that she would be the one unwilling to share his bed, and it was the reason why he had stayed away on their wedding night and every night since, and while he had accepted her kisses and caresses enthusiastically, he had never dreamed that she would be so impatient to take it all further, and that she would even get upset over it.

Whatever Jefferson had said to her must have made more of an impact than Killian had realized yesterday, but he knows Emma well enough to refrain from going after her just now.

His stomach feels like a void because he knows she is right, because even when he allows himself to imagine what would coming to her bed be like, he always remains dressed and keeps his brace on, retreating back to his bedroom after the deed is done.

Emma would have none of that and he had always known it; perhaps that is the reason why he never even attempted to do it in such a detached way.

Killian shakes his head and leaves his breakfast intact, then goes to find Kristoff, the two of them setting off for another tenant visit while Graham remains behind and loses himself in his ledgers.

The ride is spent in silence because Kristoff recognizes when Killian is absolutely not in the mood for talking, and he entertains himself by humming under his breath and looking around at the scenery as if it was not just rolling hills and blue sky, same as it is everywhere around this part of the country.

By the time they reach their destination Killian is a little tired of the quiet himself, and as they dismount he decides to be less brooding on the way back, but his plan goes up in smoke of gunpowder when a bullet whizzes past his ear and buries itself into the side of the barn behind him.

"What in the bloody-", he starts to say and then Kristoff is slamming into him and pinning him to the ground as another shot rings out, and some indeterminable amount of time later his valet is pulled off him.

Kristoff is gritting his teeth and there is a pool of blood spreading from under him, and even though Killian does his best to stay with him, to focus on his friend's pain instead of the rushing in his ears, he finds that he is too weak to resist.

Cannons are thundering again, sailors are dying all around him, and Kristoff is not lying on the ground in front of Mr. Cooper's house anymore; he is bleeding on the planks of Killian's ship, the same one that has been sleeping on the bottom of the Adriatic Sea since it had sunk.

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><p>Emma spends about half an hour hiding in the library and then asks the groom to saddle her a horse and rides to visit Elsa, but her friend is not at home and Emma blinks back tears because she would really like to share her woes with somebody other than her mother.<p>

Sadly, there is nobody left because Ruby is still in the City with her husband and Emma cannot imagine talking about such a private matter with any of her passing acquaintances no matter how desperate she is for a sympathetic ear.

She supposes she is just going to have to return tomorrow so she squares her shoulders and gets back on her horse, turning it in the direction of home with a bittersweet smile pulling at her lips.

It could be a home if Killian trusted her with his broken heart the way she had trusted him with hers, but as it is, Storybrooke Manor is nothing but a house they are both living in.

Emma comes inside through the back door and frowns at the sounds of commotion coming from the front sitting room, her steps lengthening as a chill of premonition slides down her spine.

She bursts into the room and finds the village physician leaning over Killian's valet who lies face first on the couch, his shirt in tatters and blood oozing from a wound in his side.

"What happened?" Emma asks nobody in particular as a maid rushes by her with towels and a bowl of water, then stops dead in her tracks when she spots Killian sitting on the floor against the wall across the room. "Killian!"

Moments later Emma is kneeling in front of him without even remember how she had gotten there, her hands pushing aside the lapels of his coat to make sure that he had not been hurt, but his crisps white shirt and light green waistcoat do not show signs of blood even if her husband's face looks like he had just gone through another war in the short time they have been apart.

"Killian, look at me", Emma demands and cups his cheeks in her hands, forcing his gaze away from Kristoff and what the doctor is doing to help him. "Were you hurt?"

"No, no… I am alright. Kristoff... he pushed me aside, took a bullet meant for me", Killian tells her and even though his eyes are on her now, he looks so shell shocked she doubts he can even see her.

"I am sure he is going to be alright", Emma tells her husband and gently wraps her arms around him, cradling his head against her shoulder and trying not to jump to conclusions even though there is no doubt in her mind as to who would want to harm Killian.

There is just one person who would profit from his death, and that is her infernal cousin Jefferson Nolan.

The doctor makes quick work of the bullet and he is just wrapping Kristoff's wound when Elsa and her sister Anna burst into the room, apologizing for their abrupt entrance and telling Emma that they've heard in the village that her husband was shot.

"It was his valet, Kristoff", Emma says and Anna immediately goes to assist the doctor, surprising both Emma and her sister with her willingness to get her hands dirty.

"Is the Duke alright?" Elsa asks and Emma just shakes her head because Killian had not moved since she had embraced him and she is afraid what might happen once he does; she is afraid he will push her away again, embarrassed with himself and what he will surely see as utmost weakness.

"He was not hurt", Emma says and gives Elsa a pleading look that her long-time friend reads easily, and she takes over managing everybody, getting two grooms to take Kristoff to his room when the doctor declares that he will live if he gets plenty of rest and clearing out everybody else, her eyes meeting Emma's before she gently closes the door behind her.

Killian slowly pulls away and looks at Emma with haunted eyes, then unwinds his arms from around her waist and slowly gets to his feet. He offers her his hand and pulls her up when she accepts it, then wanders over to the cabinet and pours himself a generous amount of rum.

"One for me, please", Emma says and comes to stand next to him while he prepares her drink, her hand hovering behind his back but not quite touching him because she feels absolutely horrified with everything she had told him this morning.

Killian downs his drink and leaves the room, and Emma takes hers and follows him to the library where he is already pouring another as she settles on the love seat, sipping her own carefully and enjoying the way the rich liquid warms her stomach.

"Can I do anything to help?" She asks when Killian finally sits next to her, stiffly holding his glass on his knee and staring at the life-size picture of his family that is hanging above the fireplace.

There is no response at all, and Emma is in the process of putting her glass on the table when Killian suddenly lies down with his head in her lap and closes his eyes, the empty glass of rum resting on his stomach.

Emma takes it from his fingers and puts her arm across his chest, looking down at his face and wishing she could read him as well as he can read her.

"I had another episode", Killian finally says and Emma slides her hand under his, their palms pressing together and their fingers entwining without conscious thought from either of them. "Kristoff was shot in my stead and all I could do was fall apart."

"It was not your fault", Emma tells him and swallows the lump in her throat because if he had not married her, nobody would have shot at him today and hit his valet. "If it is anybody's fault, it was mine."

"Yours?" Killian asks, his eyes opening and looking up at her with a strange fire burning in their blue depths. "It is not your fault that your cousin cannot seem to accept the fact that your inheritance does not belong to him."

"So you think it was him too?"

"I think he had hired someone. I do not imagine he would risk getting caught in the act", Killian says and Emma is so violently relieved he does not blame her that she could weep.

She wants to apologize for this morning but she cannot find the words, so she just sits with her husband and tells him that he could not help the way he had reacted, that Kristoff is going to be alright, and that they are going to find a way to make Jefferson pay for what he had attempted to do.

Her voice is calm, but she is chilled to the bone because Killian could have died today without knowing just how much he means to her, and she swears to stop asking him to trust her and start doing everything in her power to prove to him that he can.

Emma sifts her fingers through Killian's hair and just enjoys the intimacy of this moment, her eyes roaming over his face while his chest keeps rising and falling steadily under her arm.

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	16. Fifteen

**I have to thank all of you for all the wonderful feedback you've been leaving me for this story, and I think the best way to do that is to give you two chapters in a row. It's the big one, and I hope you enjoy!  
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><p>Neither Killian nor Emma eat much during dinner and after it is done he excuses himself and goes to check on Kristoff.<p>

He finds his valet lying in a nest of pillows looking absolutely bored while Mrs. Simms sits on a chair next to his bed feeding him soup.

"Killian, there you are. Would you please convince your housekeeper that I am perfectly capable of feeding myself?" Kristoff says as if nothing has happened and rolls his eyes heavenward when Killian just gapes at him. "You thought I would die."

"There was a lot of blood", Killian says dumbly and sits on the edge of his friend's bed, feeling like a huge weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

"And there was not much blood when that cannon ball took off your hand and you almost died", Kristoff says and gives him a pointed look, then obediently opens his mouth to receive another spoon of his dinner. "Can you not give me something proper to eat? I am starving and that soup is not helping."

"He wanted to leave the bed as soon as he woke up", Mrs. Simms whispers to Killian and gives Kristoff a dirty look, then puts another spoon of soup in his mouth before he can say another word.

"Stay in bed, sailor, and finish your soup. That is an order", Killian tells him sternly and winks at Mrs. Simms, keeping them company until the soup bowl is empty and Kristoff has fallen asleep.

It is already past eleven and Killian wanders back to the library, hoping against hope that Emma is going to be there to distract him from things he does not want to think about.

He wants to postpone going to bed as long as possible not just because he is fairly sure nightmares are going to make him restless tonight but also because he had gotten used to Kristoff's help with changing into his night clothes and he knows he is going to struggle forever doing it on own.

The library is empty and he pours himself a glass of rum, then leaves it untouched and pulls back the curtain to gaze up at the night sky just as the door opens and Emma comes in with the sound of swishing silk and the scent of irises surrounding her.

"I was afraid you would go to bed without coming to say goodnight", she says and beelines straight for the rum, taking a sip of it before she comes to stand next to him.

"I was with Kristoff."

"I guessed so", Emma says and gives him a sideways glance, then slips into the space between him and the window and starts untying his cravat.

"Swan? What are you doing?"

"Helping you undress", she says matter-of-factly, her eyes studiously avoiding his as she exposes his neck and applies her deft fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat.

"Why?" Killian asks and captures her wrists with his hand, stilling her movements and tilting his head until she meets his eyes.

"Because Kristoff was hurt and you are too proud to ask anybody else to help you, least of all your wife", Emma says and gives him a challenging look because she is certain she is right.

And in this instance, she is.

He would rather spend an hour wrestling it all off than ask for help and reveal his weakness to any of the servants, but now that Emma is doing it, it does not seem so bad.

If anything, he is actually enjoying watching her do it.

"What happens when you finish undressing me? Should I remain in here until morning?" He teases as he releases her and she seems surprised but pleased, continuing with her task and wearily eyeing his hook because it is clear she cannot remove his coat without damaging it if the hook stays on.

"I was not sure if I was allowed to wait in your room", Emma says and gives him a wink to let him know she is just jesting, then reaches down and slides her fingers over his hook. "Permission to take it off?"

"Permission granted", Killian says before he can truly think about it and Emma clicks the hook off, lies it on the table next to his glass of rum and proceeds to slide the coat off Killian's shoulders.

When she comes to stand in front of him again, the very air around them seems suddenly charged, her eyes locked on his as she removes the waistcoat too, then throws it in the general direction of the loveseat.

"I wonder whose idea was to make these buttons so small", Emma murmurs, her fingers slowly undoing them one by one, her soft skin grazing Killian's chest and igniting a fire in his blood that will not be denied.

But then again, that might have been his cunning wife's plan all along.

Emma opens his shirt as far as it would go and lays her palms against his chest, her head tipped back and her tongue darting out to wet her pink lips the only incentive he needs to wrap both his arms around her waist and kiss her the way he never dared to do before.

"Swan", he groans against her mouth when her soft curves come into contact with his hardness and walks her backward until her back is pressed against the wall, her arms wound tightly around his neck and her tongue sliding eagerly into his mouth, enticing him and making him forget all reason.

"Oh yes, please, yes", she mutters when he bends down and hikes the skirt of her dress up, bunching it around her waist and sliding his fingers up her silky stockings until he reaches the garter, but the look of pure hunger on his wife's face spurs him on until he finds her wet and ready, his finger sliding inside her easily, her nails digging into his shoulders when he applies his lips to her neck.

He gets lost in the smell of her, the softness and the strength and the feel of her skin against his, the small moans of pleasure she makes becoming the only sound in the world that matters to him in this moment and the urge to satisfy her the only thing he lets himself think about.

"Please", Emma moans and he shushes her with a kiss, then sends her flying with a simple movement of his thumb, her knees buckling and his handless arm around her waist pressing her closer and keeping her upright.

It is only when she pulls back to look at him with a mischievous smile that it downs on him how much trouble he is in now.

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><p>Emma is pretty sure she would end up kneeling on the carpet if there was not for Killian's arm holding her up, but he looks positively terrified when their eyes meet, his hand slowly removing itself from between her legs and coming to rest against her hip, gently trying to shift her away from his evident arousal.<p>

"Oh no you do not", she tells him calmly and stands on tiptoes to suck on his neck, closing her eyes and inhaling the delicious smell of his skin, her hands roaming over her husband's back under the fine linen of his shirt, her fingers tracing the numerous scars she encounters with utmost gentleness until he relaxes and lets her do as she pleases.

And she finds that everything pleases her when it comes to her sailor.

She kisses him slowly, lazily tangling her tongue with his and swallowing his groans when she presses herself against him just so, gasping when his hand cups her breast and he hooks his thumb in the edge of her bodice, tugging it far enough down to reveal her nipple.

He dips his dark head and kisses her breast, her fingers tangling in his silky hair when he thrusts his hips forward and pins her to the wall, her leg hooking around his and almost sending them tumbling on the carpet because it had slipped her mind that it was not just his hand that was injured on his left side.

"I am sorry, I forgot", she says quickly, breathlessly, and Killian just laughs, surprising her because he sounds so carefree and miraculously unburdened by his wounds.

"You forgot", he repeats and kisses her hard and demanding, then hoists her up in his arms and limps to the closest table, depositing her on its polished surface and going back to teasing her nipple with his tongue while she reaches to open his trousers, wondering briefly if maybe she is dreaming all this, and finding that she really does not care because it feels too good to wake up.

Her fingers close around his hot, pulsing length and his breathing grows ragged, little puffs of warmth blowing against her heated skin that make her feel like she is going to burst if she cannot have him right now.

"Killian", she whines and he covers her hand with his, aligning himself and sliding home with unbearable ease, their bodies like two puzzle pieces locking together the way they were meant to do from the start.

"Oh Swan", he says, his voice filled with such awe she feels tears of joy burn in her eyes, so she keeps them closed and embraces her husband, welcoming his every thrust with the roll of her hips and giving herself over to sensation, the pressure inside her rising steadily until she explodes like a star and rains down upon him, her pleasure spurring him on; he spills inside her with a groan that reverberates through her chest and she clings to him as aftershocks shake them both and make her feel like she is lost at sea with nothing to hold onto but his hard, strong body.

They remain united, their arms around each other while their breathing returns to normal, and even then neither is willing to let go.

"You are a marvel, love", Killian says and kisses Emma's neck, his eyes gentle and so very blue when he finally pulls back to look down at her.

"You are not terribly bad either", Emma teases and slowly unwraps her legs from around her husband's hips, smiling when he pulls the skirt of her dress down and carefully adjusts the folds.

"I behaved abominably, taking you here, like this, instead of-"

"Hush", Emma shushes him with her hand pressed against his mouth, feeling an awful loss when he pulls out of her and looks at her as if he still expects her to scold him. "It was wonderful, and I will not have you feeling guilty for it."

"You would not have preferred our first time to be in a bed?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and she grins, welcoming Killian's sudden cockiness and leaning forward to press a kiss against the firm muscles of his chest.

"Maybe I would have before tonight, but after experiencing this, well... I am quite glad it happened here", Emma tells him with a dreamy sigh and gently traces her thumb against the long scar adorning Killian's collarbone.

It makes him freeze and she can already feel him erecting his wall again, but this time she is determined not to let him raise it all the way up.

"You are beautiful", she tells him and cups his cheeks in her hands to stop him from shaking his head. "Absolutely stunning."

"I prefer dashing, if you insist on praising me that way", he tells her after a long pause and gives her an unexpected grin that makes her feel like singing.

"My dashing Duke", Emma says and slowly stands up, testing her knees because they still feel slightly uncertain, and shrieking when Killian picks her up and holds her against his chest. "What are you doing?"

"I never did carry you over the threshold", he tells her and carefully tests his bad leg, both of them releasing a breath when it holds their combined weight and allows him to carry her to the door which she opens so that he can step through.

His jaw is clenched and he moves slowly, but he manages to carry her all the way to her room and only sets her down once they are inside it, his hand cupping her cheek when he gives her a thorough goodnight kiss that makes her sway.

Once he is gone, Emma does a little dance around the room and quickly undresses, cleans up, pulls on her nightgown and removes the remaining pins from her hair before she sinks gratefully underneath the covers.

She experiences a brief pang of disappointment that she will not be waking up in Killian's arms tomorrow, but she had promised herself to give him time he needs to learn to trust her, and so she closes her eyes and falls asleep easily, a serene smile still curving her lips.

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	17. Sixteen

**Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback for the last chapter, and I hope you will enjoy this one too!  
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><p>Emma wakes up early and gets dressed without waiting for Mary to come help her, and as soon as she hears Killian walking around in his room she knocks on the door connecting their bedchambers and opens it before he even has a chance to invite her in.<p>

"Swan, can you please stay there and give me a moment?" Killian asks from the shadows across the room and curses under his breath when Emma ignores his request and comes closer.

She finds him sitting on a chair next to the chest of drawers wearing dark trousers and an unbuttoned white shirt, struggling to fasten the brace on his handless arm with the aid of his teeth.

"Let me", Emma says softly and kneels in front of him, trying her best not to feel offended when he shakes his head and pulls his arm away.

"Can you not let me keep this little dignity I have left?"

"I am your wife, Killian. You can trust Kristoff with this, so why not me?" Emma asks calmly and withstands the full power of his blue gaze, her fingers covering his and holding on until he sighs and lets her have her way.

"It has to be tighter", he says and Emma bites her lip because the brace is digging into his skin just below the elbow but she does not question his instructions, securing it to his arm and pulling the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it all.

"You see? It was not so bad", she says with as bright a smile as she can manage and quickly buttons his shirt, then leans in and kisses his cheek. "You do not have to hide from me."

"I am trying not to", Killian says softly and slides his fingers through her hair, his warm breath fanning her lips when he tells her he loves it when she lets it down.

"I know you do", Emma says with a wink and gives him a firm, thorough kiss before she gets up and opens various drawers until she finds the one with neatly folded waistcoats. "How about this one today?"

"I always thought that one was supposed to be worn at some grand ball", Killian says with a raised eyebrow but stands nonetheless and slips his arms through the holes.

"Says who? It goes well with your eyes", Emma tells him and makes quick work of the buttons. "Will you come with me to visit Mama after breakfast? She has probably heard about the shooting by now so I would like to reassure her in person."

"Of course I will. I am not letting you out of my sight with gunmen running around... Although, you might be safer away from me, since it appears that it is me they want to get rid of."

"Nonsense. If it was Jefferson, he will not dare try again with all the men you have hired to keep an eye out on things", Emma tells him and starts tying his cravat, suddenly feeling warm from the intensity of his gaze. "What?"

"I was just thinking how I never gave much thought to what would it be like to be married, but on those rare occasions I did, it was always this."

"This?"

"You tying my cravat", he says softly and Emma messes up the knot, her eyes locked on his Adam's apple because she had dreamed about the same thing until Neal came and turned those dreams to dust. "Oh damnation; what did I say? It was not my intention to make you cry."

"These are happy tears", Emma tells him and stands on tiptoes to kiss him, melting against him when he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her close.

After breakfast they go to the library to take care of their correspondence, Emma's cheeks burning red when she remembers what had transpired on the desk Killian is currently sitting behind, his lips quirking up at the corners when he notices her watching him.

Ruby writes about the progression of the season, informing Emma that Lady Regina Mills has broken off her engagement last week and married Major Robin Hood, Viscount Sherwood by special license, leaving Lord Neal Cassidy the laughing stock of the ton.

"Good news?"

"Good riddance, I suppose", Emma says and comes around the table to show Killian the letter, and he wraps his arm around her and pulls her down on his lap.

"You were too far away", he tells her when she gives him a suspicious look and kisses her neck, then loops his hook around her wrist and removes her hand from Ruby's letter so that he can read it.

Emma nestles closer into the circle of his arms and watches his profile, feeling so very light and loved more than she thinks she deserves.

"His punishment should be graver for treating you the way he did", Killian says and rubs his hand up and down Emma's waist, watching her closely as if trying to see if she still has feelings for the man she thought she loved before Killian had come back into her life.

"I do not care what happens to him", Emma says and traces her thumb over the scar on Killian's cheek, feeling overwhelmed with affection for her husband, but refusing to let herself call it love yet.

She is too scared, but she knows that her emotions will not be held in check for much longer.

"He is a fool for not marrying you", Killian tells her and turns his head to kiss her palm, then gives her a cocky smirk and dips her over in his arms before he gives her a kiss that makes her head spin. "But I shall forever be in his debt."

"Maybe it was just fate", Emma says, finally letting out what she had been thinking for a while now. "Do you think it could have been?"

"You think we were always meant to be together?" He asks her with a bright smile and her heart turns over in her chest.

She is getting sorely tempted to give a name to her feelings and call them love.

"Do you?"

"I hope so", he says softly, his smile faltering and his gaze shifting from hers. "At least then everything we have been through was worth it."

Emma is speechless because even though she feels the absence of her father every day and it hurts more than anything else ever did, Killian had lost more in the years they were apart; his entire family and his ship and an actual part of him, and yet he still thinks that it was worth it just because he is now holding her.

It seems that he has already named his affection for her; he must be calling it love when she cannot hear him.

"I believe you were my destiny, Killian", Emma says softly and presses her lips against his forehead, Ruby's letter fluttering to the floor when she wraps her arms around his neck. "And I have always been yours."

* * *

><p>Killian paces the morning room, tugging on the cuff of his evening coat and checking again and again that his fake hand is safely fastened to the brace; nothing can go wrong tonight at the Marchioness of Arendelle's ball.<p>

The idea for the ball came from Killian's mother in law, and it is just a means to an end; they want to combat the rumours that Emma's marriage is nothing but a farce, rumours that her cousin Jefferson has been spreading since their altercation in the library and the subsequent shooting.

Tonight, they are going to attend the ball and attempt to prove to Elsa's guests who make up the better part of the ton that Emma and Killian are actually very much in love with each other.

He loathes the idea of parading themselves around although he could not love her more even if they still sleep in separate beds after each passionate meeting in the library and various empty rooms of the house.

If Emma minds their quick tumbles on tables and settees and in overstuffed armchairs, she does not say so, but he is well aware that her patience with him must be wearing thin.

It is ironic that he had once charged into battle without a second thought, and now the very notion of undressing in front of her has the power to send him into a spiral of panic.

"Everything alright?" Emma asks from behind him and Killian turns around to find his wife standing in the doorway looking like an angel, her hair piled on top of her head and the blue silk of her dress matching the colour of his waistcoat. "You left your hook in the library."

"I thought this would look better", he tells her and holds up his arm, showing her the fake had he had had made in the village; it is wood stuck in a glove and surrounded by wool, and it is the best he can offer her.

"Actually, I prefer the hook", Emma tells him and runs the blunt edge of it over the swell of her breast, her eyes sparking with mischief. "What do you prefer?"

"The ton-"

"No", Emma cuts him off and comes closer, her free hand cupping his cheek. "I am proud of you, Killian. I am proud to be your wife, and if the ton minds the hook, they can bloody well look the other way."

"Such language for a lady", he chuckles and kisses her fingers, then holds out his arm and lets her exchange the hand for the hook, desperately trying to hold the words she might not be ready to hear inside.

Oh, but he loves her so very much.

They spend the short coach ride kissing and emerge slightly breathless and in high spirits, pay their respects to their hosts and take a turn around the ballroom talking to various acquaintances; most of them seem genuinely glad to see Emma and they do their best to be polite to Killian, but he can feel their eyes boring holes in his back as soon as he turns away.

"It is too bad we cannot check if you can indeed still dance", Emma sighs and looks longingly toward the dance floor, her fingers resting lightly on his forearm.

"You know I would gladly try and possibly make a fool of myself if you were not still in mourning", Killian tells her and then notices a secluded alcove separated from the ballroom with two draperies, and he does not waste time in steering his wife through them.

"Tired of the mingling? Is your leg bothering you?" Emma asks and he smiles to himself, thanking his lucky stars for sending him Emma when he had needed somebody the most.

"My leg is fine. And listen, they are playing the waltz", he tells her and takes her left hand in his right, watching the realization down in her green eyes when he presses his brace against her back. "Would you care to dance, my lady?"

"I thought you would never ask, your Grace", Emma replies and lays her hand on his shoulder, smiling up at him encouragingly before he takes a leap of fate and steps forward with his left foot.

His leg holds, and even though his steps are far from graceful and he does not dare spin her around, they are still dancing, still holding each other close away from the world behind the draperies.

Emma's eyes are bright, her gaze never leaving his as they move in their little haven, her dress swishing against his trousers and her hand fitting perfectly in his; Killian comes to the realization that there is nowhere else in the world he would rather be.

Not even on his long lost ship.

"I love you", she tells him as soon as the music stops, her beautiful mouth curving into a smile as he tries to figure out if she had really said it or if he had just imagined it. "I love you, Killian Jones."

"Because I waltzed with you?"

"Because you are the kindest, bravest and most beautiful man I have ever known", she tells him and he is pretty sure his heart is going to float out of his chest.

"I love you, Swan", he says, looking down at his wife's face and feeling utterly blessed to have her. "I think I have loved you all along."

"I think I did too", Emma whispers and stands up on tiptoes to give him a light, chase kiss that touches his very soul.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	18. Seventeen

**You guys are amazing with your feedback, and it is what prompts me to update so quickly; this chapter is just fluffy lovemaking, to make up for the angst that is coming starting with the next one. Enjoy, and thank you!  
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><p>Emma is sitting at her vanity braiding her hair for the night when there is a soft knock on the door connecting her room to Killian's and she turns around just as the said door opens to reveal her husband.<p>

She had not seen him since they took a very steamy coach ride back from the ball earlier this evening, and she feels a thrill of anticipation at the possibility that tonight they will finally come together in her bed and spend the night in each other's arms.

"May I come in?" He asks, and she is too distracted with the fact that he is barefoot and wearing his night clothes to say anything, so she just nods, her fingers frozen in her hair. "Can you... can you leave it unbound?"

There is something incredibly endearing in the way he asks her to stop braiding her hair, as if he is still not sure if he has a right to ask something so personal of her.

But he loves her, and she loves him too, and it is time he realized that there is nothing she would not do for him because she does not doubt that he would move the mountains for her.

And so Emma shakes out her locks and runs her fingers through her hair, all along watching Killian come closer, drawn to her like a moth to the flame.

Once he is standing close enough to touch, she turns around and looks up at him with a faint smile, her heart beating double time because she is still not entirely sure why is he here.

"You are so beautiful, Swan", he tells her softly, wistfully, his fingers tracing her cheek as he cups it in his hand, this thumb sliding down her nose and over her parted lips, even such a simple touch capable of quickening her breathing for the simple fact that it is Killian touching her.

He moves away abruptly, walking around her room and extinguishing the candles one by one until she stands up and moves to protect the last one that is burning next to the window.

"Leave it", she says, her fingers entwining with Killian's to stop them from dousing out the flame.

"Swan-"

"It is for my father", she explains, and Killian hesitates, then gives her a sheepish smile and leads her back to her bed.

They stand there for a long, charged moment, just gazing at each other and holding hands, blood rushing in her veins just from his nearness and the clean, spicy scent of his skin.

When he kisses her, it is with a hungry determination that is meant to distract her, to drive her half-insane until all she cares about is how best to lose herself in his arms, but she does not let him this time, her hand slipping from his so that she can cup his cheeks and pull away.

"Why did you come here?" She asks softly, gazing up at the bright blue of his eyes steadily, willing him to finally let her remove the armour of his clothes and expose himself to her completely.

"To make love to you", he tells her and tilts his head into her palm, his hand reaching out and settling on her waist.

"Then do it properly", she tells him, smiling at the way he lifts his eyebrow and regards her under those ridiculous eyelashes of his. "In a bed. Without a stitch of clothing on either of us."

"Who told you that was proper?" He teases, clearly stalling for time, and Emma rolls her eyes, then pushes his chest, making him sit on her bed and lifting his chin up to face her.

"You have been hiding long enough", she says and reaches for the hem of her night gown, his eyes going wide when she draws it up and over her head, carelessly draping it over the back of a nearby chair. "We both have."

"Gods, Emma", he whispers, his eyes roaming over her naked body as she returns to him and unties the sash that had been holding his banyan closed, briefly wondering how had he made the knot with just one hand, only then realizing that he had left the brace in his room.

She pushes the banyan off his shoulders and puts it over her nightgown, then comes to stand between Killian's knees, fingers of her left hand playing through his hair while her right hand rests against his neck, his pulse jumping against it as he licks his lips, his eyes darting to her breasts then back up in a way that would make her giggle if the moment was not so heavy with anticipation.

"Make love to me", she tells him and carefully straddles his lap, smiling when his arms wrap around her waist and he eagerly takes what is offered to him, his sensuous mouth ghosting over her breast and sending sparks of pleasure dancing over her skin.

"So beautiful", he whispers reverently and presses a string of wet kisses to her other breast, sending heat shooting downward and making her aware of the firm pressure against her thigh, her hips pressing closer to his and making him groan as he works her nipple into a tight peek. "Always so impatient."

"You are still wearing too many clothes", Emma whines and makes him let her go, then settles against the headboard and primly crosses her legs at the ankles and her arms under her breasts, feeling so very warm from the intensity of his gaze but vowing not to let him have his way with her until he is as naked as she.

"You are a stubborn lass", he says and gives her a long-suffering look, then sighs and stands up, reaches back with his hand and draws his nightshirt up and over his head in a surprisingly elegant move that leaves her completely breathless.

And finally, there he is in all his naked glory, his skin gleaming in the candlelight, every hard muscle finely outlined, every inch of his body perfect in her eyes.

Emma kneels on the bed and reaches out to touch the scar on her husband's shoulder, her fingers sliding over the firm mound of his bicep and down his forearm, her teeth catching her bottom lip when she reaches the end of his arm a little above the place where his wrist should be but it is no longer.

She had never given much thought to the consequences of losing one's arm during a sea battle, never imagined what a physician would do the close such a wound, and only now that she is seeing the ruined expanse of skin does she understand Killian's apprehension of showing it to her.

"You are such an idiot, your Grace", she tells him and closes her fingers around his stump, her thumb caressing the scarred flesh and her eyes meeting his startled ones. "I have loved you since I can remember; did you really imagine that a few scars could make me stop?"

Killian looks completely lost for words so she draws him down beside her, her hair pooling on his chest and her fingers caressing up and down his forearm until he loses the shell-shocked look in his eyes and slowly relaxes into her pillow.

"You are far better than I deserve", he tells her and she gives him a saucy wink, then leans down and kisses him firmly.

"I am just what you deserve."

* * *

><p>For the first time in a good long while, Killian Jones feels free.<p>

Emma is warm and pliant in his arms, giving herself over with the same reckless abandon she had been doing for the past month, and seeming even more enthusiastic than usual because he had finally dared to offer her the gift of his body without any kind of barriers between them.

She is infinitely wise, his Swan, and completely unafraid to go after what she wishes to have, and he can only laugh when she pushes gently at his bad leg and thus succeeds in rolling him on his back, her straight white teeth biting his neck playfully, her slight weight settling perfectly over his hips.

"Oh I love touching you", she sings, her golden hair surrounding her face and looking like a halo in the candlelight, her creamy skin so soft to the touch when he slides his hand from her breast and over her ribs to finally settle it on the curve of her hip.

He is still a little bit uncertain about his left arm, his very being aching to touch her with it as best as he can, but fear still holding him back, but Emma helps him soothe that apprehension, helps him realize that she accepts him as he is, scars and wounds that not even time can heal notwithstanding.

If he did not love her already, if he had not been loving her his entire life, he would have fallen for her tonight.

Emma rakes her fingers through his chest hair and kisses him hungrily, pressing herself against him in the most perfect way, letting him feel her heat and her eagerness, his tongue sliding into her mouth as his fingers part her folds and make her writhe on top of him, his handless arm keeping her close as he keeps driving her closer and closer to the climax.

"Oh dear Lord", his wife mutters and digs her nails into his shoulders, then says his name in an urgent way that makes it clear that she does not want to finish this round of lovemaking without him.

He rolls them over and braces himself on his elbows above her, her hand finding him and guiding him steadily inside, her legs opening wider to receive him like a safe harbour in a storm; he knows in that moment that he is never again going to feel complete without her by his side, and although that should scare him, it does not.

She loves him, he loves her, and nothing else matters.

And so he makes love to her, tries to show her the full depth of his feelings now that nothing is holding him back anymore, and if his knee is aching he is not aware of it at all, any possible pain drowned in a well of sensations that overtake his senses and make him forget that he is not whole.

In her arms he is.

When their gazes meet, he knows she sees all of him, and he is completely certain that she does not find him lacking; the relief that comes with that realization makes him smile down at her as they keep moving together, soaring higher and higher until there is nowhere left to go but down.

Afterwards, they lie embracing each other, the solitary candle long since burned out, but their fingers still exploring, still sliding over smooth and rough skin, over dips and hollows and plains, learning each other's bodies by touch and branding each other with kisses.

Emma's skin is not completely smooth as some would expect, tiny scars peppering her knees and arms, souvenirs of an active childhood and youth, and each worn proudly, her green eyes smiling as he explores one by one.

If he had not known already that his wife was a marvel, this night would prove it to him.

"I do not want to sleep", Emma tells him when he finally bids her good night and kisses her forehead, unable to fight the pull of sleep for a minute longer.

"Why not?" He mumbles, blinking sleepily and trying to wake up sufficiently enough to hear her answer.

"Because I do not want to wake up alone", she whispers, and that does the trick, his arms tightening a little around her to show her that he is not going anywhere.

"You do not have to wake up alone ever again if you do not wish it", Killian tells her fervently, sighing contentedly when Emma burrows closer, her hair tickling his nose and filling it with the most pleasant aroma of wild flowers.

"Is that a promise?" She asks and he nods, lazily tracing his fingers up and down her spine and trying to stay awake just a little bit longer.

"Promise", he manages to say, and then he drifts off into a peaceful, and for once, undisturbed sleep.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	19. Eighteen

**Thank you for all the reviews, and get ready for angst; there's still quite a ride ahead of us.  
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><p>Killian wakes up early because the sun shining in his eyes and then lies motionless in his wife's bed; Emma is half-way on top of him, her leg trapped between his and her soft hair spilling over his bare shoulder, his hand resting on the small of her back and her fingers wrapped around his bicep.<p>

She is still fast asleep, her warm breath fanning his neck as he counts all his blessings and tries to convince himself that this is not a dream; it is still hard for him to believe that she accepts him as he is, that she can so easily overlook all his shortcomings when he himself has trouble with doing the same.

"It is too early for you to be scowling so hard", Emma admonishes softly and pulls back to look at him, her fingers dancing over his brow and her eyes meeting his, their smiles blossoming on their faces at the same time. "That is much better."

"How did you know I was scowling? You were asleep just a moment ago", he asks her and she tells him it is a secret.

"I had hoped you would sleep better with me", Emma whispers and lies back down, her fingers wistfully tracing patters in his chest hair.

"I slept the best with you, love", Killian tells her and wraps her hair around his hand, tugging on it gently until she tilts her head back and looks at him. "Not a single nightmare."

"Really?" She asks, her entire face brightening up as she sits up next to him, then glances down at herself, looking slightly amused at her own nakedness.

His breath catches in his throat because she is even more beautiful in the light of day, her creamy skin sending a siren's call to his fingertips and lips.

Emma smiles serenely and he sits up abruptly, wraps her in his arms and covers her with his body, his lips descending on hers, neither one of them holding anything back.

She wraps her legs around his hips and presses against him as he braces his weight on his elbow and takes her lovely breast in his hand, and he is just about to trail a wet path of kisses to the other one when there is a loud knock on the door connecting this room to his.

"Killian? Are you in there?" Kristoff demands and it is the first time Killian wishes his valet could be a little more formal. "Something's happened."

"Go see what he wants", Emma says with a pout and pulls him back for one more kiss before she lets him scramble from the bed.

He shrugs on his banyan and finds the knot to be exceptionally difficult one-handed when she is looking at him with those hungry eyes of hers, so he turns away and goes to open the door.

"What the bloody hell-"

"Graham is dead", Kristoff cuts him off and reaches out to lay a steadying hand on Killian's shoulder. "He was taking Owen for a walk and somebody shot him."

Killian does not know how he knows, but he is completely sure that he was supposed to be the target and that the shooter had somehow mistaken Graham for him; the realization makes him sway a little from both relief and horror because a man is dead in his stead.

"Where is Owen?" Killian asks, distantly aware that Emma is snow standing next to him, her small hand slipping into his and for now keeping the panic at bay.

"He's downstairs with Mrs. Simms. I heard the shot and rode out with a couple of grooms to investigate, found him sitting next to Graham's body. I tried talking to him but he kept crying all the way back home.

"Bring him to us", Emma says firmly and Killian finds that he is capable of going through this without descending into another episode.

"After you do that, go fetch Lady Misthaven. She is a sitting duck all alone in that house, and she might be in danger", he tells Kristoff, focusing on what needs to be done to assure the safety of those near and dear to him and pushing the dark thoughts deliberately away.

"Mama will not be happy", Emma says but agrees that it is for her own good.

"Once she is here, question the men who were supposed to guard the property and hire new ones; I want only former soldiers, and make sure they are well-armed. Finally, send a missive to the Marquess of Arendelle; I need to see him this afternoon if he is available, and ask if the Marchioness will object to keeping Emma company."

Kristoff nods once and retreats, and Emma is in Killian's arms before the door is even closed.

"What do you intend to do?" She asks, her hands sliding up and down his back in a motion meant to comfort them both.

"This cannot go any longer. Whether it is really your cousin behind these attacks or not does not matter; we need to find the culprit and make him pay for what he has done", Killian says and kisses Emma's temple, rocking her gently until there is a knock on the door again and Kristoff opens them, carrying Owen into the room.

The child looks exhausted and too pale, and Killian releases his wife in favour of taking him.

"Come here, laddie", he says and cradles the tiny shaking body close, carrying him to Emma's bed where the three of them lie down, Emma and Killian facing each other with Owen snuggled between them.

"I want my daddy", Owen whispers and his face crumples, tears rolling down his chubby cheeks before he presses his nose against the frilly lapels of Emma's dressing gown, Killian's heart breaking a little when he realizes that all three of them are fatherless now.

It has been years since he lost his father, but right now that wound feels as raw as Emma's and Owen's must be.

"Daddy is with the angels now, sweetheart", Emma says, her fingers sifting through Owen's locks, her tear-filled eyes seeking Killian's as she reaches out her hand for his.

Hand he cannot give her because his weight is braced on his right elbow.

He had never wished for his hand back more than he does now, but he is how he is and for some unfathomable reason Emma does not mind his scars, so he gives her his left arm and she slides her fingers under the sleeve of his banyan and wraps them around his stump.

"Do not worry, little love. We are going to take care of you now", Killian says and Emma nods, then leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Owen's head.

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><p>Eventually, all the crying tires Owen out and he falls asleep, rolling on his back and wrapping his arm around Killian's, his legs kicking off the covers that Emma arranges around him again while her husband watches her with an odd look on his face.<p>

"What?"

"You are going to be a wonderful mother", he says and she looks down at Owen's sleeping form, incredible tenderness filling her heart.

"I feel like I have just become one."

"I am sorry for not discussing it with you first; if you think it is too much, we can try to find Owen some other accommodation", Killian says and Emma is pleasantly surprised that her husband would actually give her a choice in this matter, because not many other Dukes would.

Granted, not many of the England's finest would even dream of taking their steward's child in like this.

"Owen stays with us", Emma says and leans in to give Killian a chaste kiss. "You go dress first, and I will watch over him until you are ready to take over."

"We are both so lucky to have you, love", Killian tells her and gently twists free from Owen's grip on his arm.

"How so?"

"Most Duchesses would banish him to the nursery at the first occasion", Killian tells her and it is still strange to hear him refer to her that way.

"Most Dukes would put him on a coach and send him to the closest relatives."

"Owen does not have anybody left", Killian says and disappears through the door connecting their rooms while Emma turns her attention back to the sleeping child in her bed.

It takes Killian almost half an hour to get dressed and Emma is on the verge of going to him to offer help when he finally returns, surprising her with the absence of both his hook and the brace that had always covered his stump so far.

But, before she can ask him about it Owen distracts her, softly whimpering in his sleep, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids, his little hand reaching for something only he can see.

Killian is beside him in an instant and starts talking in a low, soothing voice, telling him that everything is going to be okay, that he is safe and that nobody is going to hurt him ever again.

Emma turns away with tears in her eyes, fear chilling her to the bone and making her hands shaky as she reaches for the bell to bring Mary up to help her dress.

Her cousin is most likely out to kill her husband and there is nothing they can do to prove it, which means Killian is still in danger.

The very thought of losing him is too painful to bear, so Emma makes a conscious decision not to think about it until Will and Elsa arrive and they can form some sort of a plan.

An hour later they have breakfast in the morning room, Emma and Killian sitting side by side on the couch and Owen reclining like a little baby on Killian's lap.

The sight pierces Emma with a deep sense of longing and she catches herself wishing that all the making love they have been doing soon comes to fruition.

Emma's mother arrives with five trunks and her lady's maid, and the fact that she agrees to stay with them for the indeterminable future make Emma even more jittery and worried than before, but then Killian takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles and she finds that she can breathe again.

Owen starts crying if he is left alone, so Killian and Emma take turns being with him, neither of them minding this new responsibility in their lives even though it poses quite a challenge.

When the Arendelles arrive Killian and Will withdraw to the library and Emma remains in the morning room with her mother and Elsa, Owen playing with wooden soldiers on the carpet next to Emma's feet and looking up at her every once in a while as if to convince himself that she is still where he had last seen her.

"Did you hear from Ruby lately?" Emma asks Elsa to distract them all from the thing Will and Killian must be discussing and Elsa tells her that their friend is counting down the days until the end of her confinement.

"Victor insists that she stays indoors as much as possible and escorts her everywhere, and I do think he is going a little bit overboard."

"He is just worried. I remember your father, Emma", the Countess says, her voice catching on the word father, but she bravely soldiers on, "he would not let me lift anything heavier than a teacup before you were born."

"He loved you very much", Emma tells her and ruffles Owen's hair, gladly welcoming him into her embrace when he scrambles on her lap.

"Are you and Killian going to make the adoption legal?" Elsa asks and Emma shrugs because she did not have time to give it much thought today, but she is well aware that she should bring the matter up with Killian.

As if on cue the door opens and her husband enters followed by Will and Kristoff, all three of them looking grim but determined.

"What are we going to do?" Emma asks and feels a chill of premonition rush down her spine when Killian's eyes find hers.

"We are going to London to finish this once and for all", he says and Emma hugs Owen closer to her chest, thinking how much she wants to destroy Jefferson for everything he had put them all through.

"Do not worry, Lady Storybrooke", Will says solemnly as he sits down next to his wife and takes a sip of her tea. "That bastard is going to get what's coming for him."

"Indeed", Killian says, and there is a strange fire burning in his blue eyes that makes Emma feel a little worried, but at the same time, incredibly safe.

She firmly believes that everything will be alright in the end.

**Review?**


	20. Nineteen

**Thank you for going on this journey with me; have a little more married bliss and Neal being put in his place. I hope you enjoy!  
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><p>Moving the whole household that includes over twenty maids and footmen, a cook and a dozen grooms, plus three drivers, a housekeeper, and a valet, a Duke and his Duchess, the dowager Countess with her lady's maid and a toddler to London in just a few days proves to be a challenging endeavour that prompts the whole Storybrooke Manor into action. The reason for such a mad rush is that the Season is only going to last for three more weeks and if there is any hope of catching Jefferson or his paid muscle in the act of trying to harm Killian, it has to be now.<p>

Emma just wants it all to be over so that she can enjoy the first year of her marriage in peace, take care of Owen and maybe even bear a child of her own, but she knows that there is not going to be any rest until Jefferson is apprehended and brought to justice.

And so finally, three days after Killian's dramatic declaration, Emma watches her husband lift Owen into the carriage and lets him hand her in, settling on one side of the plush bench while her mother takes the other.

Owen sits next to Emma and leans his head against her side, his small hand seeking hers, and she still cannot believe how easily this little child had gotten into her heart; she had always liked Owen and loved playing with him, but it seems that her affection for him has doubled since she became his adoptive mother.

"Are you excited to go to London, sweetheart?" Emma's mother asks and Owen nods enthusiastically, then his face falls abruptly and tears start rolling down his cheeks.

"I miss daddy", he whispers so that only Emma can hear and she gathers him on her lap, hugging him close and rocking him until he stops crying.

The carriage rolls out of the yard and a few more follow, and a little way up the road Elsa's entourage joins Emma's, Will and Killian riding ahead with a few ex-soldiers for protection while Elsa and her sister ride in their carriage.

All the men are armed and Emma tells herself that nobody would dare attack them in broad daylight, but she still has trouble relaxing and barely talks to her mother.

"Emma?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think my daddy will be able to see me from Heaven? What if he only looks at the house and gets sad because I'm not there anymore?" Owen asks and Emma exchanged a look with her mother, then smiles down at her little boy and tells him not to worry.

"Your daddy will watch over you no matter where you go", Emma says and pretends not to notice her mother wipe away a few tears with her handkerchief.

At precisely one o'clock they all stop at an inn for some refreshments and Emma does not let go of Killian's hand when he comes to hand her down from the carriage, wishing she could give him a kiss right in the middle of the courtyard but somehow resisting the urge and asking Kristoff to hand her mother down and help Owen out.

"Are you alright, Swan?" Killian asks and brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles, his bright blue eyes watching her carefully until she nods and tells him that she had just missed him.

"We could ask Elsa and Anna to share her coach with your mother and I could ride with you and Owen until we stop again tonight", Killian suggests and Emma looks at him askance, then glances down at his leg.

"Your knee is bothering you", she says and he knows better than to argue.

"It will be better once I sit down", he tells her and looks at Owen, who runs around them and wraps his fingers around the curve of Killian's hook.

"Can you ride with us later, Killy?"

"I was just telling Emma that I intend to join you after lunch", Killian tells him and the three of them walk into the dining room, followed closely by Elsa, her husband and Emma's mother on Kristoff's left arm while Anna takes his right.

A few hours later they are rolling down another nondescript road and Owen is sleeping, stretched out on one side of the coach while Emma and Killian sit close together on the other.

"What if all this is for nothing and Jefferson does not dare do anything in London?"

"I doubt that, love. He seems too determined to get rid of me to give up that easily", Killian says and Emma sighs, absentmindedly rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand and resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the scenery roll by.

"The ton is going to gossip about us everywhere we go", she murmurs after a few minutes of silence and Killian pulls back a little, trying to meet her eyes, but she keeps staring out the window until he gently tilts her head back with his hook under her chin.

The motion is unexpected but it pleases her immensely because it shows her that he is starting to accept that she loves him no matter what, and that his hook is no different than a fake hand or a real one, at least in her eyes.

"I am a Duke, lass. They would not dare insult me or my Duchess."

"It is even worse when people talk behind your back, would you not agree?"

"We shall just pretend we do not hear them, and only talk to people like Elsa and Will who have no appetite for gossip", Killian tells her and kisses her before she can object further. "I might even dance with you in full view of everybody this time."

"You would do that?"

"I promised you a waltz, and while the dance we had shared at Elsa's ball was pleasant, I know you would enjoy it better in the middle of the dance floor."

"Speaking of dancing; how is your leg?" Emma asks and reaches across her husband's lap to gently rub his stiff knee.

"No worse than usual", Killian says through gritted teeth and Emma tells him to prop his foot on the opposite seat since Owen is sleeping tucked into a little ball and does not take up all of it.

The fact that her husband listens to her is further proof of his discomfort, but she keeps massaging his leg and gradually the pain lessens, both of them relaxing a little and speaking quietly while the child in their care keeps sleeping on.

* * *

><p>It is almost noon on Tuesday and Killian has Emma on his bad arm and her mother on his good one as they ascend the steps to his town house, Kristoff carrying Owen ahead of them.<p>

Leroy greets them at the door and shows them into the morning room, then rings for tea that Lady Misthaven excuses herself from so that she can rest in the guest bedroom that has already been prepared for her.

Owen is kneeling on the window seat, face glued to the window, watching the coaches dash along the street below, pedestrians walking carefully not to get trampled, and Emma sits next to him, her fingers running through his soft curls.

"We are really back", Emma says wistfully and looks up at Killian, and he gives her the most carefree smile he is able to produce, wishing he could brush away the dark circles below her eyes with a touch of his fingers, and knowing that they will not go away until Jefferson is not threatening them anymore.

"You have five invitations to various events tonight already", Leroy says and offers them a tray laden with the envelopes that Killian takes and hands to Emma while he picks up Owen and sits down holding him on his lap.

"What is the verdict?" Killian asks after Emma opens them all, noticing that she looks a little more lively than before.

"One dinner, two musical recitals and two balls."

"What's a recital?" Owen asks and Killian drops a kiss on top of his head, then explains that it is usually an awful bore.

"Killian!"

"You know it is."

"So that leaves us the choice between the two balls, then", Emma says and he looks at her in surprise.

"Dismissing the dinner so easily?"

"I do not imagine you would suddenly like to eat in public", she says offhandedly and he will be eternally grateful that she does not make a big fuss about his missing hand; they both know what he can do easily and what he is willing to do even if it is hard, and dining in a foreign dining room is just not one of those things.

"What are our options for the ball, then?"

"Viscount of Atlantica or the Prince of Agrabah, whomever that might be."

"I guess there is no choice in the end; nobody is going to dare to decline the Prince's invitation."

"The Prince's ball it is", Emma agrees and goes to pour them the tea.

The afternoon is spent unpacking and then it is time to get ready for the ball, but before they leave, Emma and Killian spend half an hour telling Owen stories until he falls asleep, and they arrive at the rented mansion on the edge of town when the first set is already forming.

Killian thinks that his wife looks stunning in her red gown and he tells her so after they have been received by the Prince, and Emma's green eyes glitter happily; she seems to have momentarily forgotten why they are here.

He, on the other hand, is well aware or Will's and Kristoff's presence in the ballroom, the latter disguised as a footman, and both of them as alert as Killian is.

"Emma?" Somebody says and Killian feels his wife stiffen, her fingers gripping his arm tighter as they turn around to face the man approaching them with two glasses of champagne in his hands. "It has been a while, but you look more beautiful than ever."

"And who might you be?" Killian bristles even though he is rather sure he knows who the man offering his spare glass to Emma is.

"Neal Cassidy", he says and inclines his head only imperceptibly, the insult obvious from a mile away. "Will you not take the glass, Em?"

"I want nothing from you", Emma hisses and tugs on Killian's arm, trying to pull him away. "Let us just go."

"I was just trying to help since your husband cannot bring you both a drink", Lord Neal says haughtily, looking at Killian's hook in distaste, and Emma's eyes flash with anger, but Killian surprises them both by chuckling, feeling deeply amused.

"One would think that somebody who had suffered a fist in the nose by Lady Storybrooke would take great care not to provoke her again, but it seems you are rather slow on the uptake", Killian says and glances at Emma to see her smile, relaxing a little and loosening her death grip on his arm.

"How is Lady Regina?" She asks and Neal's face turns a nasty purple colour. "Has she been in contact with you since the end of your betrothal or is she having too much fun with Viscount Sherwood?"

"I think you have effectively shut him up, love. How about we get our drinks now?" Killian asks and steers Emma around Neal who looks suspiciously like a fish on dry land, still holding the glasses in his hands as they walk away.

"Oh that was fun", Emma says and walks ahead to take two glasses from the table, handing one to Killian before she lays her hand along his bad arm.

"Quite scandalous, a wife getting the drink for her husband", Killian remarks with a lopsided grin and Emma giggles like a debutante, making him realize that he does not care if people find him lacking; the most important thing is that she does not.

"Ruby would have loved seeing Lord Neal put in his place", Emma says wistfully and Killian assures her that she is going to enjoy it when Emma tells her about it during the visit she had planned for tomorrow. "I guess."

"Would you like to dance the next set with me, love?" Killian asks after he had introduced her to a few of the retired Royal Navy Captains and Emma looks like he had just handed her the moon or took the starts from the night sky.

"I did not think you would really do it."

"Have a little faith in your husband, would you, Swan?"

"I have faith in you, Killian. I just was not sure if you had enough faith in yourself", Emma tells him and lets him lead her out on the dance floor, his hooked arm going around her waist and her hand resting on his shoulder lightly, her body responding to his easily when he makes the first step and takes her along.

Seeing Emma smile dreamily up at him and for once looking completely careless and happy is worth all the pain Killian is undoubtedly going to have to suffer tonight, and he has to admit that he is enjoying himself more than he had imagined.

The ton seems to be over their initial disapproval of his hook, Jefferson does not seem to ready to make his move, and he has the most beautiful woman in the world in his arms; what more could a man wish for?

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	21. Twenty

**Here comes more angst and the story about the day Killian lost his hand, but it's not nearly as bad as the next chapter, so brace yourselves my dear fellow shippers. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!  
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><p>Emma and Killian cut a path through the London social scene, spending evenings at various balls and soirees and mornings with Owen, taking him to see the sights, and when Emma is visiting her friends, Killian entertains him at home.<p>

The ton thinks that raising a child in such a manner is inappropriate, most of them relying on various nannies and governesses to take care of their children, but Emma and Killian do not care much what people say; they both want to give Owen a loving, stable home, and that entails spending time with him.

Ruby and Elsa agree, but they also wonder if Emma and Killian plan to have one of their own, and Emma blushes fiercely when she remembers the fervour with which Killian makes love to her every night, and keeps her suspicions to herself because she wants her husband to be the first to know once she is certain that she is indeed increasing.

They have abandoned the notion of having separate bedrooms for appearances sake, and they go to bed together, dismissing his valet and her maid and helping each other with their clothes.

A week passes and Jefferson does not make an appearance, and neither do his men, so Emma relaxes even though she can tell that Killian does not. He seems carefree and nonchalant, but she catches him assessing their surroundings everywhere they go, making sure nobody is lurking about.

"Killian?" She asks over breakfast, watching her husband peruse the morning newspaper with his toast suspended half-way to his mouth.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we should go to the magistrate and adopt Owen officially?" Emma says quickly before she loses her nerve and Killian looks up, a slow smile pulling the corners of his mouth up and brightening his eyes.

"You want that?" He asks hopefully and she nods, smiling when he drops his toast and takes her hand in his. "Truly?"

"He does not have anybody else, and I cannot help consider him my child. He is so easy to love, is he not?"

"He is. I was thinking about it from the moment we arrived in town but I did not quite know how to breach the subject with you", Killian tells her and brings her hand to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles.

"Were you afraid of little old me?" She teases and Killian grows serious, his gaze turning to their joined hands as he contemplates his next words.

"I was not certain if you would agree to the idea of our first child not being the product of our love", he says and lifts his eyes to hers, and he looks so apprehensive that she abandons her chair and settles upon his lap with her arms around his shoulders.

"I think that Owen can still be the product of our love; we are going to cloth him and school him and take care of him, we are going to love him together and he is going to grow up in a fine gentleman because of that", Emma says and brushes her nose against Killian's. "We are going to have our own babies someday soon, and I think he would feel better if he knew that he is ours legally and that we will never abandon him."

"Is there something you want to tell me, love?" Killian asks, his eyes wide and his hand shifting from her waist to her stomach as he eagerly waits for her answer.

"Ask me again in a few days", she tells him and his flash when he smiles, his arms enveloping her in an almost crushing hug as he murmurs words she cannot quite understand against the side of her neck. "It is not certain yet."

"I think it is", Killian says and pulls back to caress her flat stomach, as if he can feel something with his hand even through the layers of clothes and flesh. "I think there's a wee lass or laddie sleeping in here."

"Oh stop it", Emma tells him and wipes away a few silly tears, her forehead resting against his and her fingers playing through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"Ruby's husband told me about this", Killian says and Emma smacks his shoulder, then laughs and kisses him hungrily, realizing that he is probably right.

There must be a baby growing inside her that is suddenly making her want to cry for no apparent reason.

"Can we visit the magistrate today, then?"

"As you wish, my love", Killian says and steals another kiss before he offers Emma his toast, already playing the role of a concerned father to be.

"You are going to be worse than Victor", Emma sighs and Killian grins, looking so boyish and playful that she is forced to blink away tears once more.

The visit to the magistrate proves to be a success, and he tells them to return in two days with Owen to get the final documents.

Emma feels giddy as she walks along the street with her hand resting on Killian's arm, smiling gaily to acquaintances until there's a loud bang from up ahead that startles everybody.

People turn to their companions in confusion, and at first Emma does not even notice that Killian has frozen because their carriage is arriving and the driver is putting down the steps, but then she glances at her husband, opening her mouth to ask him if he has any idea what the noise might be and abruptly closing it when she sees the look on his face.

"Oh no", she says and somehow manages to get him through the door of the carriage before his knees buckle and he gets lost in the past. "Killian, can you hear me? Stay with me, please, just stay with me."

The driver closes the door after she scrambles in after Killian, protecting them from the gawking pedestrians, and Emma kneels on the floor with her hands framing Killian's pale face, trying to bring him back from the living nightmare that has taken its hold.

It has been a while since he had had an episode, and Emma foolishly thought that the worst is behind them.

She was obviously mistaken because her husband's eyes are wide and unseeing, his hand squeezing hers with bruising strength as she keeps talking to him, hoping that the sound of her voice is going to be enough to help him.

Eventually, it is, and he blinks a few times like waking up from a dream, his blue gaze focusing on her and his fingers abruptly opening when he realizes how tightly he has been holding her.

"Swan, forgive me", he says in a broken, rough voice that sounds like he has been screaming for hours even though he had not let out a sound.

"It is alright", Emma says and knocks on the wall of the carriage to signal the driver to start, then sits on the bench next to Killian and makes him lie down with his head in her lap. "Everything is alright now."

"I have hurt you", Killian tells her and brings her hand to his lips, gently kissing each of her fingers where there are already bruises forming.

"Nonsense. You just squeezed me a little too tightly."

"I am so sorry."

"Shhh, do not worry about it", Emma murmurs and brushes his damp hair off his forehead. "It must have been a firecracker going off that disturbed you so."

Killian does not say anything, just hides his face against her stomach and remains like that until they reach home, and then excuses himself and disappears into his study for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Killian does not go down for supper and he sends the maid with the tray back to the kitchen, still brooding over his failings over a glass of rum as he had been doing all afternoon.<p>

Eventually, he has enough of the solitude, but just as he is about to go check on Owen his stump starts throbbing and he changes course, going to the library and deciding to try and lose himself in a book until the pain eases.

He knows Emma could probably help distract him, but he is feeling decidedly embarrassed for still suffering the episodes and, what is worse, doing so in broad daylight in view of half the ton.

And just when the gossipers were focusing on some other unfortunate lords and ladies.

Instead of lessening, the pain seems to only get worse until it feels like that hand he no longer has is on fire, and Killian can only sit in his armchair and grit his teeth, staring at the fire and praying that it stops soon.

When the clock strikes 11 Emma glides into the library without knocking, takes one look at him and thinks better than to give him a piece of her mind like she had undoubtedly intended to.

"Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?" She says more to herself than to him, plants herself on his lap and clicks off his hook before taking out his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeve so that she can unbuckle the brace.

"Leave it", he says half-heartedly but she gives him one sharp look and then she is back at it.

"You know as well as I do that when it hurts this badly nothing will help except a massage", she tells him and sets the brace on the table next to his hook, her fingers kneading his tender flesh gently but firmly.

"I can do it", he says and attempts to pull his arm away, but she holds on and it feels too good to argue with her; her ten fingers can do a much better job than his five.

"I think you should talk about it", Emma says when the pain lessens almost completely, but he does not say anything because it feels too good having her touch him like this.

It affects him in ways he cannot really understand, much less explain, so it takes a while until her words really register.

"Talk about what?"

"About the day you lost your hand", Emma says softly and lifts her head to meet his eyes.

"I do not think I can", he tells her and looks away because he does not want her to see the truth in his eyes.

It is not that he cannot, it is that he does not want to.

"You have to. Come on, at least try. It ought to help you", Emma tells him and stops the massage, but keeps caressing his scarred skin, giving him quiet support.

"Swan, please. I do not want to remember."

"But you do remember, Killian. You remember every detail, and until you share them with somebody it is going to keep haunting you", Emma says and pulls back, her little half-smile cracking his walls. "Take a leap of faith and just tell me."

One look into her green, earnest eyes and his resolve breaks, words pouring out of his mouth seemingly without end.

He tells her how the weather was bad, and how the attack came seemingly out of nowhere. He tells her how a cannonball killed two of his sailors before claiming his hand too, and how he was in such a shock that he scarcely felt pain.

"I just wrapped a piece of cloth around the end of my arm and kept shouting orders until the ship was too badly damaged for anything to keep it afloat", he says and closes his eyes at the onslaught of memories, of sights and sounds that to this day fill him with a chill that seeps deep into his bones. "There were so many casualties, men screaming and calling for their mothers, and there was not a damn thing anybody could have done to help them. And that was before the ship caught fire."

He thinks that Emma might be crying, but he realizes that she was right; he needs to get all this off his chest.

"I did not want to abandon ship when the time came, because I knew for a fact that there were still sailors below deck and I was taught that the Captain is supposed to be the last one saved, or not be saved at all", he says, his lips twisting into a wry smile at his misplaced sense of honour.

None of his lads would have wanted him to die just because they had to.

"I must have blackened out because when I came to I was draped over a plank and Kristoff was trying to keep my head above water."

"He saved your life", Emma says softly and Killian nods, his hand absentmindedly rubbing her back because he had not seen her look this sad since the day her father had died.

"He did. I cursed him for it for about two weeks after the surgery on my stump, but eventually I came to feel grateful that he had kept me alive."

"I am so glad he did", Emma whispers and rests her forehead against his, sniffling a little and smiling when he lifts his hand and wipes her wet cheeks.

"Thank you, love."

"For making you remember that awful day?"

"For being here and listening", he tells her and brushes a lock of hair away from her face. "And you were right. I do feel better now that I have shared the burden of my memories with you."

"So I was right?" Emma asks him with a twinkle in her eyes and Killian chuckles, then dips her over and kisses her until they are both breathless. "I think it is time for us to retire."

"I think you are right", Killian says and carries his wife to their bedroom.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	22. Twenty-One

**Thank you everybody for all the feedback, and now it's time for a little more fluff and a lot more angst. Enjoy, and see you soon for another update!  
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><p>Emma walks into the drawing room after what was supposed to be just a little afternoon nap but ended up stealing three hours of the day from her, smiling because it appears that there is no doubt she is increasing.<p>

"Emma!" Owen exclaims and launches himself from the couch, running across the room and wrapping his arms around her legs.

"Somebody missed you", Killian says and Emma kneels in front of Owen and opens her arms so that he can snuggle into her embrace.

"You slept for a loooooong time", Owen says into her shoulder and pulls back to study her face, his small hands cupping her cheeks. "Are you sick, Emma?"

"No, darling, I am not sick", she tells him and leads him back to the couch where Killian lifts him into his lap as Emma sits next to them. "There is something Killian and I would like you to know."

Owen's shoulders droop and he looks between them with fearful eyes, then asks if they are going to send him away.

"Laddie, no. We promised you. Remember when we went to see the magistrate last week?"

"Yes. He smelled funny."

"He smelled like tobacco", Killian says and presses a kiss to the top of Owen's head. "Remember what he said?"

"He said that I was yours now", Owen says in a baby voice that makes Emma's heart squeeze in her chest, her hand taking his chubby one.

"We are a family. Killian, you and me. And families always stay together because they love each other", Emma tells him and Owen nods enthusiastically, then relaxes against Killian and gives Emma a tentative smile.

"I love you, Emma and Killy."

"I love you", Emma and Killian echo, then engage into a tickling war until all three of them are breathless with laugher.

"We have to go easy on Emma", Killian tells Owen and the little boy looks at her with wide eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I have a little baby growing in my stomach."

"A brother or a sister for you to play with", Killian clarifies and Owen goes from surprise to excitement in just a few moments.

"Ooooooh when can I play with them?"

"Sometime around Christmas", Emma tells him and Killian looks stunned for a moment, as if he did not imagine that their child is going to come during the festivities at the end of the year.

"How much time is that?" Owen asks and Killian endeavours to explain to him, having him count the months on his fingers while Emma sits quietly by and watches them.

She does not think she had ever felt so happy.

"I have to tell you something", Killian says that evening after they have tucked Owen in and retreated to the library, Killian reclining on the sofa with Emma tucked against his chest.

It is the first evening that they did not attend a social function since arriving to London, and she is relieved that Killian had indulged her when she had expressed her wish to remain home.

"Will came to call while you were sleeping", Killian tells her and there is something in the tone of his voice that instantly worries her.

"Was Elsa with him?"

"No, it was just two of us. And Kristoff."

"Did something happen with Jefferson and or his men?" Emma asks, pulling back to look at Killian and trying to get her suddenly racing heart under control.

"Nothing has happened, love. And that is the problem."

"How is it a problem that nobody tried to kill you since we came to town?" She exclaims, her hand rising to cup his cheek and make him look at her instead of at the fire.

The room must be warm, but all of a sudden she feels quite chilly.

"We came here to force Jefferson to do something and make a mistake, but it appears that he is too much a coward to do anything in such a public setting", Killian says and Emma closes her eyes because she can guess what her husband is going to say next.

"You want to force his hand."

"Precisely."

"And how are you planning to do that?" She asks, wishing she did not have to hear this, wishing it could all just go away and knowing that it cannot until Jefferson is exposed.

"I will hold a ball in your honour. Jefferson might not be brave, but he is smart enough to realize that you must be increasing by now", Killian says and Emma is horrified with his tactic.

"You intend to use our unborn child to make Jefferson attack you again?!"

"Swan, please, calm down. I merely want to finish this once and for all."

"What makes you think he is going to try something during this ball when he had not during all the ones we had visited so far?" Emma asks and slips from Killian's embrace, pacing in front of the sofa and feeling like she would very much like to punch him in the face for looking so calm and composed.

"This ball is going to be outside, where there will be plenty of places for the shooters to hide."

"You have gone completely crazy. And Will too if he thinks this is a good plan!"

"Love, please. You and our baby are going to be quite safe at home."

"I am worried about you, you big clot! What if they shoot you this time, or worse?! What am I going to do then, Killian? I would be right where I started only worse because now there's Owen and the new baby to think of."

"Do you honestly think I would leave it to chance?" Killian asks her and limps over to her, his hand settling on her shoulder and his stump on her waist to keep her in place when she tries to turn away. "We are going to hire as many men as needed to keep an eye on every single potential shooting ground, and I will be wearing a chain link shirt underneath my clothes that ought to stop any bullet even if somebody manages to get a shot off."

"This is insanity", Emma yells and pulls away from her husband's arms. "You are risking everything!"

"I am doing what it takes to bring your cousin to justice for what he had done to your father!" Killian explodes and Emma goes still, the room spinning around her when the meaning of his words penetrates.

"What?" She breathes and stumbles, Killian catching her and sinking to the floor with her.

"I am so sorry, love. I was not certain about it so I did not share my suspicions with you, but today I finally got word... your parents' carriage was tampered with, and that was the reason they had an accident", he says and Emma closes her eyes and presses her face against Killian's neck. "Jefferson or his father or both were after the money even then."

"I cannot believe this."

"I am sorry. I know it is hard to accept", Killian says but when Emma looks up and meets his sky-filled eyes, she knows it is the truth.

"I would rather have them get away with it than lose you too", she says and a sob wrenches itself from her throat because her daddy is dead and he deserves justice, but at the same time she just cannot risk her husband.

She cannot bear the thought of losing the love of her life too.

"You will not lose me", Killian tells her firmly and cradles her against his chest as she cries, but not even the soothing sound of his voice is enough to calm her down, and they remain holding each other in front of the fireplace for a long time.

* * *

><p>Killian is already dressed by the time Emma wakes up the next morning, and he is by her side in moments when she sits up and looks around for him in alarm.<p>

"I am here, love. Everything is alright", he tells her and she nods mutely, then takes his hand and makes him sit down next to her.

"Are you quite sure that your plan can work?" She asks him, and there is a new look in her eyes this morning, quiet determination and bravery that both pleases him and saddens him.

He never wanted it to come to this, but they do not have much choice if they do not wish to spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders and fearing for their children.

"Yes, I am, and Will and Kristoff are too", he tells her and she contemplates that for a moment, then nods weakly and tells him that she will agree with the plan on one condition. "I am not going to like this, am I?"

"I do not wish to be left at home."

"Swan, please do not ask me to take you to the ball."

"The ball is in my honour, is it not?"

"Yes it is, but-"

"Then I should make an appearance", she says firmly and lays her hand on her stomach. "If you are going to be in such danger, then we are going to be there too."

"You cannot expect me to jeopardize you and our child", Killian says and covers her hand with his, a cold chill running down his spine as he imagines his Swan lying bleeding on the dance floor. "I will not do it."

"Then you will lose me anyway", Emma says and pulls away from him, her green eyes meeting his with striking conviction. "I am going to take Owen and my mother and return to Misthaven Hall alone."

"Swan, please", he whispers, colour draining from his face because he cannot possibly choose between those two impossible choices.

Both of them mean losing her forever, and even if taking her to the ball seems like the lesser evil of the two, he cannot risk her like this.

He cannot risk their child no matter how confident he is that the plan is going to work.

"Now you understand how I feel", Emma tells him and gets up from the bed, walking toward the window and turning her back on him.

"I need to finish this", he says weakly, but he can see in the set of her shoulders that she is not going to change her mind, and he would never try to force her to stay by his side.

"Why does it have to be now? Why not wait just for a little longer..." Emma asks, her voice so quiet he can barely hear her.

"The longer nothing happens, the more we let our guard down", Killian tells her gently and comes to stand behind her, but he dares not touch her yet. "It needs to be done before our baby is here."

"Do you even care about your own safety?" Emma asks him sharply, turning around and jabbing a finger into his chest.

"I do", Killian says and looks at her steadily, hoping that she is not going to notice that he is not being entirely honest with her.

He cares about his safety to a point, and that point is the safety of her and their babies.

They are more important to him than everything else in the world, and that includes his own well-being.

"You are lying to me", Emma says gravely and looks at him with eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Swan-"

"When is the ball?"

"Next Friday afternoon."

"You have until Friday morning to decide. I will attend the ball, or leave London", Emma tells him and he feels like the ground is crumbling beneath his feet.

If he was ever going to have another episode, it would be now, but Emma saves him before it comes to that by flinging her arms around his waist and holding on with desperate strength.

"I love you", she tells him, and for a moment he thinks she had changed her mind, but then he feels foolish for thinking she could be so fickle. "I love you but if you intend to force me to watch from the window while you are in danger, I would rather be far away when it happens."

"I love you, Emma", is everything he can think to say, and he holds her tightly because he knows that on Friday morning he is going to watch her drive away.

On Friday morning, he is going to lose both the love of his life and their children.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	23. Twenty-Two

**If you have survived "The Words" video have a chapter that's probably going to finish you off, so brace yourselves and believe in the happy ending. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!  
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><p>For the rest of the week Killian feels as if he cannot quite draw a full lungful of breath, waiting for something to happen that would sway Emma from her decision to leave him on the morning of the ball.<p>

All the invitations are sent and Will firmly believes that have to keep to their plan, but Killian cannot shake the awful premonition that he is missing something important and that he should just agree to keep Emma by his side during the ball.

But how can he risk her life, and the life of their unborn child?

While the staff is busy preparing for the big day that is to take place at St. James' Park where a big dance floor has already been erected, Emma spends most of her time shopping with Elsa or visiting Ruby, often bringing Owen with her so that Killian is left to his own devices, haunting the house and poring over the Park map with Will, deciding where the men he had quietly taken into service should be positioned to make sure nobody can get close enough to the dance floor and tables surrounding it to have a clean shot.

Even with the date of the ball approaching, Emma and Killian still dine together as she tells him about the places she had visited with Owen, and after they put their son to bed, Killian escorts her to the library where she opens her numerous purchases, showing him dainty little suits that their baby is going to wear some day, socks that would fit his thumb and caps that are just slightly bigger than his fist before they go to their bedchamber and fall asleep holding onto each other.

"Are you sure that this is going to be warm enough?" He asks her the evening before the ball as he smoothes his fingers over a tiny vest with beautiful embroidery on its pale green surface, wishing he could freeze the moment and forever be able to admire the loving smile that stretches Emma's lips.

"These are just underclothes, Killian", Emma tells him and opens a few more parcels, then hesitates when he does not say anything, a sudden tightening in his chest making it impossible to breathe.

The walls seem to be closing in and he realizes what a fool he has been, thinking that he will be able to plan this battle ahead and not get swept up in the memories of the battles he had fought in the past.

Especially the one he had lost.

"Killian, look at me", Emma's voice penetrates the haze as he clutches his chest with his hand, feeling certain that he must be dying, his vision filling with black spots and the roar of cannons drowning out everything else.

And then his wife is kissing him, breathing for him and bringing him back to her, and he becomes aware of his surroundings a few moments later, realizing that they are both kneeling on the floor, arms around each other as she cradles his head against her shoulder.

"It is alright, Killian", Emma says against his ear and rubs his back with her hand, endlessly gentle and patient while he slowly drags himself back together.

"I have to do it", he tells her at length, pulling back to gaze at her face and even managing to smile because she's looking at him with wounded, hopeless eyes.

"I know", she says and takes his hand in both of hers, kissing his knuckles and asking him to let her stand by his side.

He knows that this is the last time she will ask, and although he feels like the worst kind of brute for taking her choice away from her, he just cannot fathom losing her, so he cannot let her have her way.

She could ask for the world and he would find a way to give it to her, but on this one thing he will not back down or give in.

Emma bows her head and he watches as tears slide down her cheeks, her fingers still clutching his hand to her so that he feels every teardrop that drips from her chin, hitting him right in the heart.

She does not say anything, just cries silently until Killian cannot take it any longer and pulls his hand from her grasp so that he can wipe her tears away, his handless arm circling her waist and dragging her closer before he kisses her, tasting salt on her lips and realizing that her desperation mirrors his own because of the way she clings to him and returns his kiss with equal ardour.

They are going to part ways tomorrow, and he does not wish to think what is going to happen the day after because at this moment, it does not matter.

Emma is pushing him back until he ends up lying on the plush carpet, her nimble fingers opening his waistcoat while he lifts the skirt of her dress up and up, their lips still pressed together, tongues tangling and untangling as the pressure between them rises, his arousal fitting snugly between her thighs.

They come together with all their clothes still on, just loosened and pushed out of the way, and their eyes catch and hold, saying everything they do not have the breath to say.

He loves her.

She loves him.

Tomorrow they will part because they both feel cornered and out of options, but at least they have tonight.

At least they have one more night to remember.

* * *

><p>Emma knows the second she opens her eyes that Killian is not in their bed anymore, or in their room for that matter.<p>

She also knows that it is for the best, because the less she sees of him today, the better.

After Mary helps her dress, Emma instructs her to pack her trunks and a valise for Owen, then goes to fetch her little boy, trying to think of a good reason that would make him understand their imminent departure.

It would be the easiest to just take him and go, but she does not have the heart to deny Killian a chance to say goodbye.

Emma's mother comes to keep her company while the servants load up the coach and Owen seems to sense their sour mood even though they both try to hide it; he is more subdued than usual, playing quietly and often asking to be taken into Emma's lap where he just snuggles against her and lets her hold him.

Killian comes into the nursery to announce that both the coach with the trunks and the carriage for Emma, her mother and Owen are ready, and his eyes slide over Emma and settle on their boy as Owen stares back at him with curious eyes.

"Where are we going, Killy?"

"You are going back to the country", Killian says and Emma feels slightly guilty for not breaching the subject with Owen before now, but then she thinks it is for the best because she would not be able to remain as calm as her husband is.

He comes to kneel in front of her armchair to be level with Owen and tells him how he is going to join them in a few days, gently reassuring the boy when he bursts into tears, claiming that he wants to stay with him.

"You will see me soon, laddie", Killian tells him and Emma wipes a few tears away, exchanging a look with her mother, who quietly announces that she will wait in the parlour and leaves the nursery.

"You could still change your mind", Emma says softly when Owen scrambles from her lap and into Killian's arms, his whole body shaking with sobs.

"So could you", Killian tells her and she realizes that no matter how cross she is with him right now, she had also never loved him more than she does right now.

They descend the stairs together, Killian carrying Owen, and Emma feels quite peculiar, as if she is looking on at the three of them from a great distance, but it is probably for the best because otherwise she might not be able to leave.

Emma's mother joins them and a footman hands her into the carriage, Killian kisses Owen's cheeks and murmurs something in his ear that Emma cannot hear before he passes the boy to his mother in law and turns to face his wife.

"In case something happens to me-"

"Oh do not even dare say it!" Emma cuts him off and presses her hand against his mouth, shaking her head when he wraps his fingers around her wrist and gently pries her hand away.

"I have spoken to my solicitor and made sure that half of what I posses will pass onto Owen, and the other half to our unborn child in the event…", he trails off and does not say what she cannot bear hearing. "You are going to be the one in control of everything until both our children become of age, and after that you and your mother are still going to have a generous allowance-"

"Killian, please stop talking", Emma says and lays her hands on his shoulders because she feels like she might have a fit of the vapours, and wonders idly if maybe she should not fight it so that the journey she is about to take might be postponed.

"I am sorry, Swan", he tells her and pulls her in for a quick hug, then gives her a chaste kiss and hands her into the coach before she even has a chance to gather her scattering thoughts.

She does not tell him she loves him.

He does not tell her he loves her.

Emma hugs Owen to her side and they watch Killian stand on the steps of the town house, his hand raised and his eyes sad as they move away, the carriage picking up speed to catch up to the coach that precedes them in which their trunks and several servants ride.

"Are you sure that you should be leaving him?" Lady Misthaven asks, but Emma is unable to answer, staring out of the window and absentmindedly caressing Owen's arm.

"He will not let me attend the ball, Mother. What difference does it make if I am stuck in the town house or at our country estate while he..."

_While he risks his life to assure that they have a future,_ a nasty voice at the back of her head whispers, but she ignores it and presses her lips into a tight line.

The carriage rolls out of London and into the open countryside, Owen falls asleep with his head on Emma's lap, and every mile away from Killian makes her feel more and more apprehensive.

After a brief stop at an inn for lunch, they all get back on the road and the minutes tick by painfully slowly; Emma does her best not to imagine what might be happening at St. James' Park.

Or what has already happened.

Suddenly, the carriage comes to an abrupt stop and Emma frowns, poking her head out of the window to check what had happened.

A shot rings out and she is just in time to see the driver fall from his box with blood staining his shirt, and Emma covers her mouth with her hand when Jefferson steps over the body and gives her a scary smile.

"Good day to you, Emma", he says and a chill rushes down her spine as she gives a signal to her mother to get out through the other door.

Lady Misthaven complies, somehow managing to keep Owen quiet while Emma shields them with her body and asks Jefferson what is he doing here even though it is quite obvious.

He has come to take what he has been after all this time.

Emma almost laughs because she had been so stupid, thinking that her inheritance is what Jefferson wanted; it had always been her.

"I have come to escort my bride to the ship that will take us far away, of course", Jefferson says and Emma does laugh then because he is beyond saving if he thinks to marry an already married woman.

"I am Killian's wife, not your bride", Emma tells him with her chin held high, recoiling when he yanks open the carriage door and pulls her out, gripping her arm without any gentleness.

"No, my darling. You are a widow now", Jefferson says cheerfully and has to drag her toward his horse because her legs do not seem to be able to hold her up any longer.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	24. Twenty-Three

**I am well aware that this chapter is one big angst-fest, but don't worry, everything will work out in the end. Thank you for reading and all the feedback you keep giving me, and I hope you enjoy!  
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><p>Emma is sitting on a horse with her cousin Jefferson's arms wrapped around her from behind as they gallop away from the abandoned carriage back in the direction it came from, but her thoughts keep scattering like leaves on the wind, one sentence echoing round and round in her head.<p>

_You are a widow now._

It cannot be true.

"You were lying", Emma says firmly, but her words get swept away because the horse is moving fast and Jefferson tightens his hold on her as if afraid that she might try to leap off anyway.

If there was not for Killian's baby growing inside her, Emma probably would have.

Cold panic grips her at the thought that Jefferson had told her the truth after all; he was never working alone, and his men might have gotten through the security at the ball and harmed Killian while their empoyer went after Emma.

She shakes her head and refuses to believe that Killian is dead.

"Where are you taking me?" She yells to be heard as they gallop on and chances a look over her shoulder at her cousin, who has a frightening look in his eyes as he spurs his horse on.

"There is a ship waiting for us at London Gateway", he tells her and laughs at her stunned expression as her heart plummets in her chest. "We shall leave England before midnight tonight."

"No, please, do not do this", Emma shouts and starts struggling despite her better judgement, feeling her skin crawl at his touch when he holds her even tighter against his body.

"Calm down you daft idiot!"

"I will not! I will not stop fighting you! Let me go!" She screams and Jefferson shakes her like a rag doll until she does not know which way is up.

"You will stop struggling at once if you wish your baby to ever see the light of day", he growls in her ear and her blood runs cold, the threat effectively putting an end to her fight.

"Why are you doing this?" She asks him after a good ten minutes of silence during which she desperately tries to stay quiet even though her position is uncomfortable; this ride is nothing like the one she had shared with her husband on the first day of their marriage. "If Killian is... if you have told me the truth, there is no need for us to leave. You could marry me and still inherit everything my father left me."

"A few moments ago you told me you would never stop fighting me", Jefferson exclaims and glares at her with his bloodshot, crazy eyes. "I do not care for money! I have loved you since we were children and you never paid me any attention, running around in your pretty little dresses and laughing at me, always laughing!"

Emma would have toppled off the horse if he was not holding her so tightly, but her surprise over his misplaced affections gradually lessens because it is suddenly all starting to make perfect sense.

"I have almost lost you to that wretched fool Neal Cassidy, and I vowed on the night of his betrothal that I would not rest until you were mine. You have to admit that your parents' coach accident was a stroke of genius; nobody even thought to look for foul play."

Killian had been right. Jefferson had killed Emma's father.

Emma cannot draw a breath, her vision darkening and the world spinning wildly about her as they keep riding down abandoned side roads that will take them around the city and to the port.

"If there was not for your dashing hero coming to the rescue, you could have been mine a long time ago... But oh well; he is dead now, and nobody is ever going to take you away from me", Jefferson says and she desperately clings to consciousness because eventually they will encounter people again and she has to keep her wits about her.

"He is not dead", Emma whispers to herself, tears leaking from under her closed eyelids, a vision of Killian's smile helping her not to give into hysterics. "Please stop saying that."

"He got shot square in the chest. I saw him go down; you can deny it all you want but he is dead and gone", Jefferson says, his voice softening a little, which only makes her hate him more.

"What is your father going to think about all this?" She musters up the strength to ask him, and he just laughs at her face.

"My father? That coward knew everything from the start. He realized I had arranged his brother's accident and he confronted me about it, but he backed off as soon as I told him that I was going to kill your mother too if he does not behave."

"My mother..."

"Come now, Emma. Have you been paying any attention at all to anybody but your dear Killian? My father is in love with your mother. He has been in love with her since the moment he met her, and he met her before your father did", Jefferson says and chuckles madly to himself. "A lot good did it do him in the end, because your mother chose the Earl. Just like you chose a Duke over me."

Emma feels like she is moving through a nightmare, riding toward her own doom, and her hand goes to her stomach seeking comfort in the only link she has to her husband; their child.

"He should have just taken his precious Mary Margaret instead of stepping aside and letting his brother sweep her off right under his nose", Jefferson mutters and Emma feels like her head might explode, a sharp stabbing pain starting to pulse at her temple.

"You cannot force me to leave with you. I will scream as soon as we get to port", she says boldly even though she feels anything but, but Jefferson just chuckles at her feeble threats.

"And I shall throw coins about us and buy the silence of those who might feel inclined to help you."

Emma presses her mouth into a tight line and does not say a word for the rest of their journey, biding her time until they finally reach their destination.

The night is falling, and the men lurking from the shadows as they pass look more frightening than Jefferson is, smiling at her and showing rotten teeth, their dirty hands twitching as if they would very much like to lay them on her body.

She balks at the bottom of the gangplank, deciding that she would rather test her luck with a common sailor than her cousin, but before she can open her mouth to scream Jefferson turns to her and backhands her across the mouth so hard that at first she sees stars, and then nothing at all.

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><p>Somehow, Killian is not dead. He had taken a lead ball and got knocked over backwards, but aside from a spectacular bruise on his ribs, he is unharmed and he will always be in Kristoff's debt for coming up with the idea of wearing chain link mail underneath his clothes.<p>

All would be attackers are apprehended and Will is conducting the questioning, trying to see which one of them would give up his master while Killian limps up and down the hallway and prays that the magistrate does not arrive until they have the information he will require.

"Killian", Will says after Killian had almost worn the carpet thin with his pacing, and Killian instantly knows that something had gone badly wrong.

"Did they tell you where he is?"

"We need to saddle our horses", Will says, and Killian tries to keep panic at bay even as he does his best to keep up with Will's long stride.

"What has happened?"

"We have to hurry and we might still stop him", Will throws over his shoulder and a chill of foreboding creeps down Killian's spine, but he refuses to think what Will's cryptic words might mean because he cannot afford an episode right now.

Fifteen minutes later they are riding out of London with Kristoff and a few grooms behind them, and Will had still not explained himself.

"Where in the bloody Hell are we going?" Killian yells as soon as they cross the town line and Will urges his horse into a gallop down a road that Emma had travelled down just a few hours earlier.

Emma.

Killian digs his heel into his horse's flank and gently hits his bad knee with his hook, the pain helping him not to give into the pull of the past as he thunders after Will, wishing Cesar could go even faster because he knows now where Jefferson is; he is going for the treasure like he always had been, but the treasure is not money or land.

The treasure is Emma, and Killian had lost sight of that fact, letting her go with just the driver for protection because he thought she was heading away from danger.

He knows now that he had been wrong.

Horse hooves eat miles and miles and Killian makes bargains with God and all his angels, his eyes searching the horizon until he spies two lone figures walking along the side of the road.

One of them is clearly a child and Killian's heart jumps in his throat them abruptly plummets when he realizes that the woman holding Owen's hand has dark hair.

Killian reaches them first, sliding off his horse and stumbling in his haste to get to his son faster, his mother in law looking at him with haunted eyes that look so much like Emma's that Killian has to look away.

"He killed the driver and took her", Lady Misthaven says and Killian falls to his knees, opening his arms when Owen runs at him and holding him close as his laddie cries.

"Shhhh, darling, it is alright", Killian coos even though he feels like crying himself, his chin resting on top of Owen's head as he rocks him and tells him lies he does not believe in.

"I want Emma", Owen hiccups and clings closer, and even though Killian would very much like to fall apart, he cannot afford to do so.

"What happened?" He lifts his head and asks Lady Misthaven, who wipes at her face and tells him how Emma had made sure that they were safe before Jefferson took her on his horse and galloped away toward London.

"We did not see them, which means he could have taken a few different directions", Will says coolly and tasks the grooms to follow various roads while Kristoff goes to get the coach and bring it back around.

"Escort Owen and Lady Misthaven back to London", Killian tells the Marques as Kristoff hands Emma's mother into the coach, ignoring the way Will shakes his head at him and gently prying Owen's arms from around his neck. "Go on inside, laddie."

"No, don't go", Owen shrieks and Killian thinks his heart might be shattering from the sound, but he does not have a choice.

He needs to find Emma before it is too late.

"I will come back, little love."

"And Emma too?" Owen asks, still hopeful even after all the horror he has already been through in his short life.

"Yes", Killian says and lifts Owen into his mother in law's waiting arms, somehow managing to put a reassuring smile on his face as he closes the door. "I will find her and bring her home."

"Killian, I wish you would reconsider this", Will says as Killian mounts his horse, but it is clear from the look on his face that he understands that he will not be able to change his friend's mind.

"Make sure they arrive home safely", Killian tells him and nods at Kristoff, who flicks the reins and urges the team forward.

"Be careful", Will says before Killian gallops away, looking back only once to see Owen waving at him through the coach window.

As far as Killian is concerned, it is Jefferson who should be careful because there is going to be hell to pay when Killian catches up to him and Emma.

_If I catch up to them_, Killian thinks briefly as he points Cesar down a road leading to London Gateway, but then shakes himself and leans lower over his horse's neck, pushing all dark thoughts away for the time being.

Emma is counting on him, and he is going to face whatever is necessary just so he would not let her down.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	25. Twenty-Four

**And here it is, the big resolution; next chapter is a mostly fluffy aftermath, and then there's just the epilogue left. Thank you so much for going on this journey with me, and I hope you enjoy the happy ending.  
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><p>Emma comes to in the dark and realizes that she is laying on a soft bed that rocks gently beneath her, and at first she thinks it is due to her painful head, but as soon as she remembers the reason for it, she knows exactly where she is.<p>

The cabin she sees when her eyes adjust to the weak moonlight coming through a round window is not big but it looks like it would be comfortable even during a long journey, and the thought spurs her into action, forcing her to sit up and put her feet on the floor; judging by the night sky she can see through the window, they are still moored, but that might not last for long.

In the next ten minutes Emma tries to open the door, tries to break through itand tries to yell for help, but none of her efforts yield any results; the door remains locked and nobody comes to her aid, and if she had managed to keep panic at bay while she tried to escape, she cannot do so now when it is clear she will not be able to free herself.

"Please no", she whispers and sinks into an armchair bolted to the floor, her hands covering her face when she realizes that even if her husband is still alive, she will never see him again, and if the child she carries under her heart somehow survives this journey, Emma does not doubt that Jefferson will take her or him and Emma will not be able to watch them grow. "I am so sorry, baby."

It is all too much and Emma gives up on trying to be brave and sinks into despair, tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs wrenching from her throat because she knows everything is lost.

When the door of the cabin opens Emma does not even realize it, too lost in her own little world of pain, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears footsteps and looks up to find somebody who looks exactly like her father standing above her.

"I need you to be quiet", the man speaks and the illusion is broken, but Emma is too stunned to move as Lord James Nolan goes down on one knee and gently wipes her tears away. "Come with me?"

"Do not let him take me away", Emma pleads with her Uncle, taking his offered hands and letting him pull her to her feet.

"I do not intend to", he tells her and she follows him out of the cabin and through the ship's narrow hallways, her heart hammering against her ribs because she keeps expecting to see Jefferson waiting around every bend.

Emma wants to ask her Uncle why is he doing this, wants to look at his face when he answers to make sure he is not telling her lies, but there is fresh hope springing inside her and she wants to keep clinging to it, wants to believe that her Uncle can be as good and noble as her father was.

"Stay here for a moment", Lord James says when they reach the steep steps leading up, then turns and gives Emma a reassuring look before he ascends them and leaves her shivering at the bottom.

Minutes tick by and she keeps staring up at the sky visible through the opening, straining to hear what her Uncle is saying and wondering who is he talking to until his face peers down at her and he beckons her with his hand, pulling her up when she is half-way up the steps.

There are sailors standing about and going after their business all over the deck but Emma keeps her eyes averted, following her Uncle toward the gangplank as the man behind the ship's wheel who must be the captain puts away a bag of coins and sketches a bow in her direction.

He looks nothing like Killian, but Emma still feels a sharp stab through her heart, her stomach coiling because she might be close to safety, but she still does not know if her husband is alive or not.

A few steps from the gangplank Emma runs into her Uncle's back, her eyes going wide when she sees why he had stopped so abruptly; Jefferson is blocking their way, the look of murderous rage on his face freezing her blood and making her hands tremble.

"Really, father? You pick your love's daughter over your only son?" Jefferson asks, his voice deceptively calm as he pulls a pistol from beneath his coat and points it at his father. "Leave this ship at once."

"I will not", Lord James says and steps closer to his son, his arm extended in a pacifying gesture that only seems to anger Jefferson more. "What you are doing is madness."

"I am doing what you should have done", Jefferson yells, the pistol wavering in his hand a little, but still remaining aimed at Lord James. "I have seen what happens when you let the love of your life slip through your fingers, and I will not suffer an existence full of misery like you did."

"Son, please", Lord James says and takes another step forward just as the pistol goes off, the ball hitting him in the chest and sending him staggering back; Emma is too slow to catch him and he drops on the deck like a rock, the sailors around them watching silently, not a single one of them moving to offer assistance.

"Traitor", Jefferson spits the word and Emma looks at him in horror, the smell of blood and gunpowder heavy in the night air. "Can somebody toss him overboard so we can leave?"

"If anybody is going overboard, it is you", a voice comes from behind Jefferson and Emma's eyes widen when she looks over Jefferson's shoulder and finds Killian standing at the top of the gangplank, his hook raised menacingly toward her kidnapper.

And so, for the first time in her life, Emma Audrey Jones swoons.

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><p>Killian watches his wife faint, only just getting caught by an old sailor before she hits the deck, and then he is moving, charging at Jefferson as the bastard tries to finish reloading his pistol.<p>

"You are supposed to be dead!" Jefferson roars and Killian is upon him before he can pull the trigger, ignoring the searing pain in his bad leg as they both hit the deck and holding onto Jefferson's wrist as tightly as he can, pushing the barrel away from his face with his hook.

Jefferson groans when Killian knees him in the family jewels and releases his grip on the pistol just enough for Killian to be able to pull it away and chuck it overboard.

"Move and you are going to be the one meeting your creator", Killian says, his hook pressing against the hollow of Jefferson's throat, his eyes never leaving his face even though he is so very worried about Emma. "On second thought, if you have harmed my wife in any way, you are going to do so regardless, so you might as well struggle."

"She is mine! You cannot take her away from me."

"She was never yours", Killian hisses and brings the blunt edge of his hook down on his temple, effectively shutting Jefferson up without having to actually go through with his threat of killing him and risking hanging for it.

"Oh thank God", Emma says and Killian looks up, finding his wife sitting on the deck next to her Uncle who seems alive after all, the ship's physician already tending to him. "Killian."

"I am here, love", he says and attempts to stand, but his leg is not really up for the task, so he crawls over to her and pulls her into his arms, murmuring nonsense as she clings to him with utter desperation.

"He told me you were dead", she sobs against his neck, her fingers clutching the lapels of his coat and her tears falling like rain on his skin.

"Shhhh, love, I am here. I am not dead", he keeps telling her but she does not seem to be able to really believe it, so he pulls away slightly and pries her fingers from his coat to press them against the left side of his chest. "See? My heart is beating just fine."

Emma finally opens her eyes and blinks a few times to clear them from tears that cling to her long eyelashes, and he is so very glad that he had managed to hold it together even despite everything that has happened because he knows that he would not be able to find his way back from another episode without Emma's voice guiding him.

"Are you alright?" Killian asks her softly, his hand going to her stomach on an instinct, his entire world narrowing just to her face as he waits for her to answer.

"We are both fine", Emma says and he breathes an audible sigh of relief, his arms going around her and pulling her closer still. "How did you even find me?"

"We caught Jefferson's men and it was not long before they told us where their master had gone, and then it was pure luck that I happened to follow the right road", Killian says, deciding not to tell her that Cesar had given his life to assure that Killian would reach her in time.

"Oh God, Owen-"

"He is with your mother and they are both perfectly alright. We came upon them and I sent Kristoff and Will with them back to London", he says and grits his teeth because the pain in his leg is getting harder and harder to ignore, what with Emma sitting right on top it.

"What about you?" She asks and he tries to give her a reassuring smile because he is not going to let go of her even if his leg falls off afterwards, but his wife is a perceptive lass and she shifts all on her own, relieving the pressure and cupping his cheeks in her hands and giving him a kiss that dulls the pain surprisingly well.

Or not, considering the way her closeness always affects him.

"I am so sorry, Swan", he tells her when they finally pull apart, his eyes meeting hers as his stomach drops with cold fear. "If I had not been such a stubborn ass, maybe none of this would have happened to you."

"We were both stubborn", Emma says quietly and chances a glance at Jefferson, who is still deeply unconscious.

Killian doubts he is going to come to any time soon, but he understands why Emma is uneasy.

"I am glad it is finished", she tells him and even though she does not say it, Killian knows that he is forgiven.

It is much more than he deserves.

"I wanted to protect you, and I just ended up putting you into an even greater peril", Killian says, a chill running down his spine at the thought of what could have befallen his Swan because he was so pigheaded.

"He did not want my money", Emma says, sounding a little stunned with that realization.

"He wanted you to be his."

"My father... it was not an accident", Emma tells him and a few more tears escape her that Killian gently brushes away with his thumb. "I never knew that Jefferson was in love with me."

"How could you when he acted the way he did? I am sorry about your father, Swan, but you must not blame this on yourself. Your cousin is deeply disturbed, and nobody could have anticipated that he would do what he did", Killian says and kisses her forehead, rocking her in his arms a while longer until she stops shaking and he thinks that his leg might be able to hold him up. "Come along; we are going to arrange for a few things."

Emma nods and Killian somehow manages to get up off the deck without her help, but she keeps her fingers wrapped around his arm as they approach the helm and he introduces himself to the Captain who immediately jumps to attention, claiming to have served in the Navy but not offering his reasons for going private.

Killian does not care as long as he agrees to find them a coach willing to take them back tonight, along with Emma's Uncle who seems not to be mortally wounded and his son who is currently getting properly trussed up by two of the ship's crew.

It is time they left the nightmare behind and took the first step toward a bright, wonderful future.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	26. Twenty-Five

**Thank you everybody for all your feedback during the course of this story, and I hope you enjoy the last chapter and come back for the epilogue tomorrow.  
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><p>Emma and Killian arrive at their town house to find everybody on their feet despite the late hour, and riders are immediately dispatched to get the magistrate and a physician while Emma holds Owen in her lap and thinks she might never let go of him again.<p>

"You should eat", Killian murmurs, sitting on the sofa next to her and rubbing his hand along her arm when she tells him that she is not hungry. "But the baby is."

She eats one piece of toast with marmalade and feeds Owen half of another, then hovers over Killian as the physician examines his leg after making sure that Lord James has been properly tended to.

"Stay off that leg for a few days", the physician advises and Emma does not even have to look at Killian to know that he is not going to follow the advice.

Lady Misthaven does not emerge from Lord James' sickroom and Emma cannot really blame her, but she prefers not to think about what her mother might be feeling right now, focusing instead on her husband and son who are looking at her with identical sleepy expressions.

"I think it is time we all went to bed", Emma says and instructs Kristoff to help Killian up to their room, ignoring the way her husband glares at his valet when he approaches.

"I am sorry, your Grace", Kristoff says with a mock bow and wraps his arm around Killian's waist. "Your wife frightens me more than you do."

"Wonderful", Killian mutters but allows Kristoff to assist him.

"I shall carry Owen", Emma says and lifts her eyebrow at Killian when he looks like he might object, and they retreat to their bedroom where Emma gently sets their son down in the middle of the bed and tucks him in, then helps her husband undress.

"It looks much worse than it is", Killian says when she discovers a bruise on the left side of his ribs, and she leans down to kiss the purple flesh and then turns so that Killian can unbutton her dress.

It is true that she could have lost him today, but dwelling on it will not help anything, so Emma changes into a night dress and walks around the bed, getting underneath the covers on the opposite side of Owen from Killian.

"Give me your hand, Swan", Killian says softly and she stretches her arm over Owen's gently rising and falling chest, instantly feeling better when her husband's long fingers envelop hers. "I have made many mistakes in my life, love, but I do not regret them. Not when the path I was taking eventually lead me to you."

Emma looks at him and manages a smile, then kisses Owen's cheek and settles comfortably on her pillow.

"Tell me a story", she says and Killian kisses the back of her hand before he fulfils her request.

Eventually, it puts her to sleep, and she wakes some time later to Owen pressing wet kisses against her cheeks, lying half on top of her, half on top of Killian, asking over and over again when are they going home.

"As soon as we have something to eat, little love", Killian tells him, his voice rough with sleep, and he drags him into the circle of his arms to let Emma get up and get dressed.

They return home that very evening and the miles help them all come to terms with what has almost happened and how much they could have lost, and Emma does not mind that Killian is a little overprotective as a result.

Gradually Killian tells her the entire story, how he had survived the bullet that was supposed to kill him and how they have learned that Jefferson had planned to take Emma all along; she has nightmares for weeks afterwards, but slowly they fade, and they spend the rest of the summer exploring the estate, playing with Owen and taking him for picnics when they are not visiting with Elsa or going for long, private walks.

Eventually, Killian hires a new steward, a quiet man named Mr. Hopper without any family who makes sure that everything is running smoothly and takes over Killian's duty of visiting the tenants; Emma tries to object to that, but Killian refuses to be parted from her for hours every day, especially now that she is visibly increasing and every day is a little miracle in its own right.

"Oooh", she exclaims on a bright day in July and lies her hand on her stomach, feeling a little flutter inside that lets her know that their baby is big enough now to move.

"What? What is it?" Killian asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice as he ushers Owen away from the waterline and sits him on a blanket next to Emma.

"Mama, I want to swim", Owen complains and Emma tells him that he needs to wait a little bit longer since they have only just had lunch, then lays her hand on Killian's knee and tells him that everything is alright.

"The baby moved, that is all", she says and Killian looks at her in awe, his eyes as blue as the sky above them when he smiles.

"What does it feel like?" He asks her and lays his hand on her stomach, both of them grinning when Owen runs around her and kneels on her other side, his little hand joining Killian's.

While Emma is Mama to him now, Killian is still Killy, and although it feels slightly unfair since Killian had known him longer, it is also understandable since Owen does not remember his mother at all.

"When are you coming out, baby?" Owen asks, his voice muffled because his face is pressed against Emma's stomach, and she feels oddly overwhelmed while Killian just chuckles and gives her a kiss, drying her tears of joy with his lips.

"What would you like, Owen?" He asks their son and rubs his back with his stump. "A brother or a sister?"

"Can I have both?" Owen asks and gives Emma a pleading look. "Can I Mama? Say I can."

"I am afraid it is not up to me to decide", she tells him gently and he turns the full force of his puppy eyes on Killian.

"Do not look at me, little love. It is much like a game of chance, and we are going to have to wait until Christmas to find out", Killian tells him and Owen brightens up and counts on his fingers to see how many months there are left.

"Five months is a long time", he says once he is through with his calculations and lies his head on Emma's stomach, hugging her waist and softly talking to the baby so that neither Emma nor Killian can hear him.

"What would you like to have?" Emma asks Killian and smiles against his lips when he kisses her again, then shrugs and looks at his hand resting on her stomach.

"I am going to be happy regardless."

"I know you will, but you must have some kind of a preference."

"Must I?"

"No, of course not", Emma laughs and tugs on the hem of Killian's shirt. "Time to go swimming."

"Finally", Owen exclaims and scrambles to his feet, running in circles around his parents until they are ready to wade in.

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><p>Killian is trying to teach Owen how to swim while Emma floats on her back next to them, her wet shift outlining her body and making it difficult for him to concentrate on the task at hand.<p>

Owen likes it best to just wrap his arms around Killian's neck and ride on his back, and Killian cannot say no to him, so their swimming lessons have yet to show any kind of success.

"He is never going to learn if you keep doing that", Emma says mildly and starts swimming next to them, and Killian is once more surprised at how quick she is in the water because he can still recall how she was just slightly better than Owen when they were children.

"You learned in your own time, did you not, my love?" He asks her and she attempts to look cross, but then her face crumbles and her laughter rings around the lake.

"Catch me if you can", she says and swims away, and even though they both know he does not have a hope of catching her with the precious cargo on his back and his injuries, he still sets off to try.

It is not long before she lets herself be caught and rewards him with a kiss while Owen giggles and covers Killian's eyes with his little hands.

"Don't do that", Owen sings and Killian's heart is so full he thinks it might burst from all the love he feels for his little family.

The summer passes almost in the blink of an eye, and when the harvest approaches Killian convinces Emma to join Elsa on her trip to visit Ruby and her newborn baby while he arranges a ball he had promised Emma on that day in the garden when they both admitted to wanting to dance.

The dowager Countess is of great help, making sure everything is perfect for the big day while Killian sends out invitations to all his tenants, and even visits some of the closer ones in person, Owen proudly riding in front of him while Mr. Hopper keeps them company.

Kristoff is spending more and more time at the Arendelle estate on the pretence of business even though everybody is well aware that he is only there because of Miss Anna Grimm, Elsa's sister.

During the week he is apart from Emma, Killian discovers that his episodes have not been vanquished completely, but luckily, the only witness to its recurrence is Leroy, who administers the quick cure of a slap and offers Killian rum which he declines and an apology which he accepts.

Elsa is tasked with bringing Emma home in time for the ball, and dressing her up but telling her nothing about the reason for it; still as soon as their carriage arrives and Killian meets his wife at the bottom of the front steps, he knows right away that she knows what he had planned.

"I did not tell her; she guessed on her own", Lady Arendelle says and glides past Killian to take her husband's arm while Emma accepts Killian's hand and gives him a quick but thorough kiss in view of approaching guests.

"You kept your promise", Emma says as she leans her forehead against Killian's, her gloved fingers resting on his shoulders. "You threw me a ball."

"I did not feel that the one in St. James' Park counts", Killian tells her and brushes his nose along hers, then leads her in and escorts her to the ballroom that could put any London one to shame.

"It is beautiful", Emma says and her smile is as bright as her eyes as they take a turn around the place that had held their wedding luncheon and did not see a proper ball since Killian's mother was still alive.

"May I have the first waltz, my Lady?" Killian asks her and she inclines her head, then hits his arm and tells him that he knows very well that he may have every single dance if he wishes to. "Even the quick ones?"

"Especially the quick ones. We shall spend them strolling in the garden while people who are not three months away from having a baby have their fun", Emma tells him and lays her free hand on her stomach.

"Do not forget those whose legs are up to the task", Killian tells her with a wink and they spend some time talking to their guests until the waltz starts and Killian leads Emma on the dance floor.

"Why is nobody else joining us?" Emma asks, looking around and back at Killian, her eyebrows raised in question.

"Because, my love, they do not wish to intrude in our wedding dance", Killian tells her and feels immensely satisfied that he had manages to surprise her after all.

"Killian...", Emma says, looking at him in awe, and he wraps his bad arm around her waist and takes her hand in his.

"We had our wedding party in this room, but we did not dance. I know that quite a lot of time has passed since then-"

"Thank you", Emma cuts him off and moves back when he moves forward, her eyes never leaving his as they turn in gentle circles in the middle of the dance floor.

He wants to spin her around from one end of the ballroom to the other, but since he cannot, he just focuses on the feel of her, the smell of her hair and her beautiful face as she smiles up at him, happy and safe in his arms, and he realizes that he already has more than he deserves.

He already has everything.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	27. Epilogue

**And here we are, at the end of another story; it has been a fun ride, and I have to thank all of you who went on this journey with me. Enjoy the epilogue, and I hope to see you in a few weeks for my next fic that I already have outlined. A little spoiler... florist!Killian.  
><strong>

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><p>It is Christmas Eve and Killian is holding Owen in his arms so that the laddie can put ornaments on the big tree they have in the parlour of the Storybrooke Mansion while Emma sits on the sofa and gives them instructions, her hand resting on her stomach.<p>

"There's too many red ones grouped together", Emma says and Owen frowns, then stretches out and starts rearranging them, his tongue stuck between his lips in concentration.

"How about now?" Killian asks his wife as he shifts one more Christmas ball, turning to look at Emma with a hopeful expression because it seems they have been at this for hours.

"Now it is perfect", Emma says and smiles when Owen wiggles in Killian's arms and demands to be put down.

"Can we open presents now?" Owen asks as he climbs on the sofa next to Emma while Killian follows at a more sedate pace, looking over his shoulder at the Christmas tree and feeling stupidly proud because it really looks wonderful with all the red and gold balls and tinsel hanging from the branches.

"It is not Christmas yet, baby", Emma tells him and kisses the top of his head. "You have to be patient for a few more hours."

Killian sits on the other side of Emma and lays his hand on her stomach, frowning when she covers his hand with hers and squeezes his fingers so hard it hurts.

"Emma?"

"I think it is time to call for the physician", she says and Killian's eyes widen, his heart dropping to the vicinity of his knees. "The baby is coming."

"Now?"

"Right now", Emma says and grits his teeth, squeezing his hand tightly once more. "I waited to tell you until you finished with the tree."

For a moment Killian thinks he is going to panic even though it has been months since his last episode, but then he looks at her trusting eyes and he knows that everything will be okay.

"Can you go get Kristoff, little love?" Killian asks Owen and the laddie nods, scrambling off the sofa and yelling for Kristoff at the top of his lungs because "his brother and sister are coming".

"Do you think I really might be having twins?" Emma asks wistfully, then holds onto Killian's arm as he helps her to her feet.

"Can you walk? Maybe I should carry you upstairs", Killian ignores her question because right now he is not even sure which way is up and Emma shakes her head, telling him that she is perfectly capable of getting to their room.

Kristoff comes with Owen on his heels and tells Killian that the grooms have left to get the village physician and Lady Misthaven, then takes Emma's free arm and the three of them slowly ascend the stairs while Owen jumps excitedly from step to step ahead of them.

They meet Mary at the door of their bedroom and as soon Emma is in bed Killian, Owen and Kristoff are banished from the room.

"Do not leave me", Emma's voice stops Killian at the threshold and Kristoff gives him a pointed look, then picks up Owen and carries him away.

"I want to stay with mommy and daddy", Owen veils and looks at Killian over Kristoff's shoudler, but this is one instance when his puppy eyes do not have the desired effect on his father.

"You will see us again soon", Killian calls after him and returns to the room where Mary is helping Emma put on an old sleeping gown.

"Come here", Emma demands and Killian approaches the bed, then takes off his hook and his coat, sitting down next to his wife and wrapping his handless arm around her so that she can lean on him, his hand holding hers to help her deal with the pain. "I am scared."

"I know, love. Everything will be alright."

"Is Mr. Stewart coming?"

"He is on his way, darling, do not worry", Killian says, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice because he does not want to frighten her further.

Mrs. Simms arrives with hot water and towels and takes a peek between Emma's legs, then tells them that their baby is impatient to come out.

"You need to push, m'lady", she says and Emma shakes her head, crushing Killian's fingers so hard he sees stars, but he knows better than to tell her to ease up on his only hand.

"You can do it, darling", he says and kisses her temple, wishing he could take all her pain and make it disappear the way she had been doing for him since they have been married, and even before that.

"Push, Emma", Mary urges too and between the three of them they manage to convince Emma that she has to do it now.

The next fifteen minutes are pure agony because Emma is in pain and Killian cannot do anything to help her except hold her hand, but then a baby cries and they both forget about it when Mrs. Simms swaths their daughter in a pink blanket and lies her in Emma's arms.

"A girl", Killian says, completely in awe as he looks down at their lassie's tiny face and traces her pink cheek with his finger.

"Hello, Amelia", Emma murmurs and kisses her forehead, then gives Killian a tired smile and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Shall I take her while Mrs. Simms cleans you up?" Mary asks anxiously and Killian is about to move away to give them more room when Emma's voice stops him.

"Thank you Mary, but no. Killian is going to hold her", she says and he turns toward his wife and daughter, trying not to look scared out of his mind.

Which in fact he is.

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><p>Killian looks like he is about to face a firing squad, but Emma ignores his pleading gaze and gently lays their daughter in the crook of his bad arm, placing his hand on her tummy to keep her in place.<p>

Mr. Stewart arrives but neither of them pays him much attention because Killian is too busy admiring Amelia and Emma is too busy watching him; he is infinitely gentle with their baby and the smile that curls his lips when Amelia grabs his finger and holds on is the most beautiful thing Emma had seen in the world after their little girl's face.

Once the physician is satisfied that everything had gone well and that both Emma and Amelia are fine, Emma dozes a little and she wakes up again to the sound of Killian's voice telling Amelia a story about a princess who fell in love with a pirate.

"How is she?"

"Wonderful", Killian says and reluctantly gives Amelia to Emma, carefully straightening one blue sock on her tiny foot.

"You should go get Owen before he thinks we have forgotten about him", Emma tells him and Killian rushes out, undoubtedly feeling guilty for neglecting their son for so long. "You are so lucky, Amelia, because your daddy is such a good man."

"Mommy!" Owen whispers as soon as Killian carries him in and looks at his sister with wide eyes when Killian deposits him on the bed next to Emma.

"Owen, meet Amelia."

"Hello Lee-lee", Owen says and leans in to give Amelia a big kiss that startles her and makes her whimper a little. "Why is she sad?"

"She is not sad, laddie", Killian hastens to reassure him and takes him in his lap, smiling at Emma over his head and telling him that they have to be really gentle with the baby.

"Like this?" Owen asks and carefully caresses her head with his small hand.

"Exactly like that", Emma says and blinks quickly as she looks at them, at her beautiful baby girl and adorable son and handsome husband who gazes back at her as if she is the reason sun rises in the east and sets in the west.

"I like her", Owen announces after a few minutes and then wiggles out of Killian's lap and lies down next to Emma, snuggling into her side and falling asleep in minutes.

"That went well", Killian chuckles and lets Amelia hold his finger again, his thumb caressing her fist as he studies Emma's face. "Are you alright, love?"

"A little tired, but perfectly okay", Emma reassures him and puts her hand on his knee. "How are you?"

"I was not the one who had to go through childbirth", he says with a shudder and she smiles sheepishly when she notices the bruises on his fingers.

"Your hand certainly did go though it", she tells him and he just shrugs, telling her that he had been through much worse.

The grandfather clock in the hallway strikes midnight and Killian smiles, his dimples flashing when he wishes Emma Happy Christmas.

"Happy Christmas, Killian", she says, leaning in for a kiss and sighing against his mouth because she finally has everything she had ever wished for.

"You gave me the best Christmas present a man could wish for", Killian murmurs when they separate and looks down at their sleeping daughter, and Emma lets him hold her again, thanking her lucky stars that her husband is not only wonderful and caring with her, but with their babies too.

"You do realize that you are going to have to put her down in her cot quite soon if you do not intend to spoil her?" She teases and Killian looks affronted, then grins and tells her that he has every intention of spoiling their little princess.

"We shall see", Emma says sleepily and relaxes against the pillows, one arm around Owen and the other resting across Killian's lap, her eyes drooping until she cannot keep them opened anymore.

"Sleep tightly, my loves", she hears Killian whisper and feels his scruff graze her nose when he kisses her forehead, and she lets herself go, knowing that Amelia is safe in his arms and that all of them are safe in his heart.

Now, and for the rest of their days.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


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